


Charmed, Not Charming

by shax92, storywriter8



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Charmed (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Attempted Murder, Bearded Steve Rogers, Biases, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky goes by James, Captain America Steve Rogers, Charmed One Bucky, Charmed One Pietro, Charmed One Wanda, Death of Evil Creatures, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Flustered Bucky Barnes, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Happy Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Lashing Out at Others, Lovers to Stangers, M/M, Mind Control, Mistaken Identity, No Prior Knowledge of Charmed Needed, Non-Consensual Ass Slapping, Patricide, Personal Growth, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Sam, Protective Siblings, Protective Wanda, SHIELD, SHIELD Agent Sam Wilson, SHIELD is the Police, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sibling Bonding, Stabbing, Steve is an Asshole for Five Minutes, Strangers to enemies, Strangulation, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Torture, Unwanted Advances, Verbal Abuse, Virgin bucky barnes, Wanda Bucky and Pietro are Siblings, Whitelighters (Charmed), Witches, attempted human sacrifice, being on fire, perceived character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 73,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shax92/pseuds/shax92, https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter8/pseuds/storywriter8
Summary: As a baby James Buchanan Barnes Halliwell was stolen by his demon father and hidden in the past where he meets the love of his life in little Stevie Rogers. But to save Stevie's life he is forced to use his demonic powers and falls under his father's control. Turned into an emotionless Winter Soldier, James travels forward through time where he is saved by his half siblings Wanda and Pietro and together they form the legendary force for good, the Charmed Ones.Stuck in the future, James grows out his hair, masters the use of cellular phones and bonds with SHIELD agent Sam Wilson over fluffernutters. However, when Sam’s new partner comes to town, James has to deal with the fact that agent Steve Rogers seems to hate him.James will have to dodge delusional angels, Nazi demons and out of control magic if he wants to save the world, discover Agent Roger’s dark secret and maybe, just maybe, get his happily ever after back.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Pietro Maximoff, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 63
Kudos: 113
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS FINALLY HERE!!!! The Not Another Stucky Big Bang collaboration between storywriter8 and shax92!!!!!!
> 
> A Stucky Charmed AU might be niche but its our niche and we love it and we hope you will to! Enjoy!!

Our story begins, as many stories do, with a man and a woman who told themselves they were in love. This might have been true at one time, but what matters is they aren't anymore. 

He is a demon, gifted with a soul that he might learn to love humanity with.

She is the latest in the long line of Warren witches that is about to bring her first child into the world.

He is a healthy baby boy by the name of James Buchanan Halliwell and despite being born half demon and half witch, you would be hard pressed to find a happier baby. For all of three days. 

Three days was all it took for the woman to realize that the man she told herself she loved would never truly be free of his demonic side.

Three days was all it took for the man to realize the power he could wield, if only the woman was out of the way.

On that third day the man took the baby and ran somewhere where the woman would never be able to find them.

The past.

March 13th, 1917, Brooklyn New York to be exact.

The man settled in, renamed his son James Buchanan Barnes, and waited for him to grow into the ultimate killing machine with one singular purpose. To put an end to the Warren line.

But despite everything, the beatings, black magic, and cruel words, the happy baby boy grew up into a happy young man.

Because of Stevie. 

He had met the small sickly blond from down the hall one afternoon when he was running from another one of his father’s demonic lessons. 

Stevie was backed up in an alleyway between two hulking boys twice his size and a white kitten. Even with his nose bleeding, knees scraped, his fists did not fall. “I don’t like bullies.” he growled, not even a hint of a waver in his voice.

A more than worthy cause for young James Buchanan Barnes and he leapt from the last level of the fire escape. It was hard to tell who was more surprised as the happy boy came crashing down onto the two bullies.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he had said, proudly holding out a hand to little Stevie from his spot on the ground as the two boys ran away.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” the blond said in turn, pulling the strange boy to his feet. “Thanks for the help, Bucky.”

Bucky.

In that moment James became Bucky and found so many new ways to be happy. He was happy to have Stevie’s back and to fight the injustices they saw each day. He was happy when they hid in dark bookstores, reading Wells, Tolkien and Lovecraft. He was happy with Stevie’s lips against his on the roof of their building at sunset. 

Life wasn't easy for either boy. Stevie battling sickness after sickness as his body slowly failed him. Bucky resisting the power growing inside him and his father’s dark words that echoed around his head until it ached.

But still, they were happy.

In fact, today they were overjoyed. Today was the day they would move in together. Stevie, out of the empty coldness that his mother had left after passing away and leaving him with an apartment he couldn't afford to keep. Bucky, away from his increasingly crazed and violent father. Today was the day that Bucky’s right hand would brush a lock of hair behind Stevie’s ear and give him a vision of the blond’s death. Laying still and cold in their bed, Bucky’s arms around him as his blue eyes slowly turned gray. 

The young man had torn himself away from the boy he loved and ran all the way home to throw his father against a wall and demand to know what sick, twisted scheme he was using to try and turn his son this time. His father had laughed, told him that it was time to choose. Choose to embrace what he really was and gain the power to save Stevie’s life, or to watch the person he was staying human for die.


	2. March 9th 1942

Horror settled in around Bucky’s heart as he stared at his father’s cruel, laughing eyes. 

“If you want to save your Stevie, you'll have to use your full powers. Embrace your demonic destiny!” he ranted in crazed delight.

Shoving himself away from his demonic sire, Bucky ran for the door. He didn't stop running until his palms were pressed against his and Stevie’s new front door. He waited a moment for his breath to calm before slowly pushing the door open.

“Hey,” Stevie called from where he sat at their tiny kitchen table in the last rays of sunset. A golden angel with temper and wit enough to steal Bucky’s heart a thousand times over. “Where'd you run off to?”

Bucky quickly crossed to his love’s side and gently cupped the blond’s cheek in his hand. He frowned and gently ran his thumb across the dark bruises that were surfacing around Stevie’s eye. “I was only gone an hour, how'd you get into another fight?”

Stevie made a face and winced slightly from the pain of his split lip. “Some fat-head was talking shit about fighting in the war.”

Swallowing hard, Bucky forced himself not to look, not to glance over at the draft card propped up on the small radio in their kitchen. “It ain’t worth getting-” he started but was immediately cut off.

Eyes shining with a fierce light, little Stevie clenched his hands. “No one gets to talk like that! Not when I’m around!” reaching up to wipe away the tears beginning to gather in Bucky’s eyes, Stevie's smile softened as he continued. “I’m going to get in this time and we’ll be kicking Nazi ass together, just you wait and see. If we go to war, we go together.”

Bucky tried to smile, tried to pretend that the pattern of bruises didn't exactly match his vision, tried to pretend that his little Stevie wasn't dying, wasn't dying right here and now. “Would you still love me if I were evil?”

“Were you talking to your dad again? I swear that man-” a coughing fit interrupted the blond who covered his mouth with one hand and waved away his boyfriend’s concern with the other. Stevie took a few slow breaths before turning back to Bucky and pulling him down into a tight hug. “I will always love you, even if you are an idiot for thinking you could ever be evil.”

Both boys clung to each other as the warmth of the setting sun slowly faded and the chill of the night moved in. Bucky finally pulled away at the first shiver he felt from his little lover. 

Stevie was still smiling and tilted his head in that mischievous way that Bucky loved most of all. “Feel better, jerk?”

With a fond smile, heavily tempered with sadness, Bucky lifted his boyfriend up and pressed a soft kiss to his chapped and split lips. “Punk,” he whispered, walking to their bed in the corner of the apartment and wrapping Stevie up in the pile of blankets that covered it.

Stevie gave his boyfriend a suspicious look but didn't argue over being bundled up in bed or having Bucky pressed into his side with a bowl of soup in one hand and cup of tea in the other, both over flowing with the love and simple magic his boyfriend filled them with. Curled up together in their bed, Stevie gave Bucky a sleepy, love sick smile as the dark of night closed in. 

Bucky took a shaky breath and tried to be strong, to be strong like his Stevie. “I love you more than anything,” he whispered as the love of his life drifted off to sleep.

But Bucky lay awake and watched the light of the full moon creep closer and closer across the floor of their tiny apartment. When the light covered their bed, he carefully got up.

For Stevie, he would face any evil, even the one inside him. 

Gently unbuttoning Stevie’s night shirt and pulling it down to expose his left shoulder, Bucky picked up his pocket knife. Pressing the blade to his thumb, Bucky winced slightly as blood began to flow. Hand shaking, he drew a star on Stevie’s shoulder then covered it with the palm of his hand. Bucky took a shaky breath and summoned up the darkness within him. Ice spread out from black part of his soul and he spoke his curse quickly as the cold crawled down his arm.

“One whose heart is good and strong  
My words will undo all the wrongs  
Let no more nights be painfully dark  
Turn honor to strength with this mark  
Your body is freed as our powers entwine  
We'll be together until the end of the line”

As the final word slipped past Bucky’s lips the curse took hold. The blood on the blond’s arm froze, cutting into his skin to brand it. Stevie’s blood welled up as he gasped in his sleep and seeped into the skin of Bucky’s hand just as the ice covered his fingertips.

Letting go, Bucky slowly raised his hand and turned it this way and that. The cold was nearly overpowering, turning his arm to solid ice and spreading a crystalline pattern of frost across the rest of his skin. But, for a moment, it felt right. As if for the first time in his life, Bucky was whole.

But that moment passed as on the street below George Barnes’s lips parted and whispered ten little Russian words, casting his curse.

Gasping as a band of power tightened around his throat, Bucky fell away into darkness. In his place was a figure with glowing arctic eyes that stared down at a frail human lying in a bed. A human that meant nothing to him. He was a soldier, A Winter Soldier with a job to do.

Standing, the soldier marched to the door.

“Bucky? Where are you going?” the weak human in the bed behind the soldier called.

On the street below, George Barnes smiled and told his weapon to answer.

“To war,” the soldier said, slamming the front door behind him.


	3. March 10th 2015

“At least the weather is appropriate,” Wanda muttered, tying up her long red hair before striking a match and lighting the last few candles. As she waved out her match, the lights flickered again and finally went out in time with the thunder crashing directly above the Halliwell manor.

“What’s the time?” Pietro asked his twin, setting up cowry shells on all the windowsills.

“10:42,” Wanda said, checking the grandfather clock in the hall of their ancestral home, “honestly, what kind of terrible thing happens at 10:45 on a Tuesday? Are you sure you translated mother’s warning correctly?”

Pietro gave her a scathing look over the back of the couch in the living room.

“I am just saying.” she said, waving her hands and summoning the Book of Shadows on a swirl of red mist. It was open to the same page that it had been for the last week. A warning from their mother to her children of a great evil attacking the manor on March tenth of this year at exactly 10:45 pm. A warning that had appeared two months after her death.

“Her visions of the future were never wrong,” Pietro said, walking to his twin’s side and lighting the last few candles they had placed around the altar they had moved from the attic to face the front doors and checked the clock one last time.

Lightning flashed above the manor again followed by the crash of thunder that lit up and rattled the windows in turn. As the minute hand of the grandfather clock clicked one minute further, the front doors exploded. Electricity flashed and arched off the door frame and walls as a figure walked up the steps.

The twins held their breath and gripped their protection charms. They had every spell passed down the Halliwell line to guard the house from evil. No demon or warlock would be able to enter the manor.

As another flash of lightning lit up the sky, the creature came into sight. It resembled a man with short dark hair in a plain white shirt, suspenders and mud-spattered black slacks. But its icy blue eyes glowed and its left arm was covered in ice that was slowly spread over the creature’s chest. It growled. Throwing its left arm out to shoot another blast of lightning at the twins.

With matching screams, they ducked and the lightning smashed into the dining room table behind them.

“That should not have happened!” Wanda yelled as she peaked up over the top of the altar.

“No shit!” Pietro snapped as he glanced around the side of the altar.

The creature growled again, took one more step and reached out to the doorway. Its left hand found resistance against a shimmering barrier for a moment before easily pushing through it and stepping into the manor.

Grabbing hold of Wanda and the Book of Shadows, Pietro blinked away from the altar as another blast of lightning destroyed it.

The creature tilted its head at the disappearance of the witches and took another couple steps forward. If it noticed the shimmer of light and tinkling from the chandelier above its head, it didn't show it and grasped the wall as it scanned the living room.

“Potions!” Pietro gasped as he and his sister blinked back into existence in the kitchen. It was a mess, the counters covered with different types of potion bottles and the sink full of dirty cauldrons.

Wanda grabbed for one on the island and leapt back with a shriek as the creature lumbering through the dining room towards her.

“Kill her,” it growled, pausing halfway through the room to rake the conservator with its eyes. Not seeing the target, it turned and continued walking towards the confused looking witch.

Shaking, Wanda snatched up a few more bottles and hurled a handful of high-powered vanquishing potions at the evil that had invaded her home.

The creature staggered slightly as the small glass vials struck its chest, shattered and engulfed it in flames. Letting out a howl of pain, the creature fell back against the smashed table. The ice covering its left arm melted away and, for a moment, the blue light faded from its eyes.

Wanda stared at the nearly human looking man as he shook off the flames. She was still staring as the fire vanished and the glow returned to the creature who snarled and lunged for her. 

“Wanda!” Pietro yelled, crashing into his sister before the creature could reach her and blinking away again.

“What were you thinking!” he gasped as they materialized in the attic, shaking his sister.

“I do not think it is after us,” Wanda said, trying to figure out why the creature’s eyes seemed so familiar. “Why would it be looking for something when it could see me clearly?”

Both witches fell silent for a moment and heard the slamming of doors one floor below them.

The creature threw the last door open and gave the small bedroom a cursory glance. Turning away from the empty room, it walked to the attic stairs.

“It does not matter what it wants,” Pietro hissed as his sister levitated a bookcase on red swirls of magic over the attic door. “It is trying to kill us!”

A crash echoed from the door and the furniture stacked in front of it shuddered. Two more crashes followed before a moment of silence before a bolt of lightning blasted a hole through the wood. The creature stepped over the debris and slowly scanned the room and frowned but did nothing more.

After a minute of staring at each other, Pietro mumbled out of the side of his mouth to his sister. “What is it waiting for?”

Wanda let out a frustrated growl and waved her arms at the creature. “What do you want?!”

“Winifred Halliwell,” murmured the smooth voice of George Barnes as he strolled into the attic. It was messier than the demon remembered, layers of sentimental trash his ex-wife had added over the last 26 years. He gave the two witches a unimpressed sneer and snapped his fingers. “Tell me where she is and I will order your ends to be swift.”

The creature flinched at the snap and the ice covering its arm creeped farther across its chest as it took a step forward.

Any fear the twins had felt at being attacked in their home vanished under the burning rage that filled them at the sight of the demon. Barnes, the monster who had broken their mother’s heart and killed their infant brother.

The red haze around Wanda thickened as her anger grew, lifting a lamp, four dirty mugs and two athames off the surfaces they had been resting on and slowly turning them in the air. Making a throwing motion, the red-haired witch hurled everything at the demon that had hurt her family. 

The creature lurched sideways to guard its master, catching one of the knives while the other embedded into its shoulder and the mugs and lamp shattering on contact.

“Give it up,” Barnes drawled, rolling his eyes and smiling cruelly, “my creature is indestructible, you can't win.”

“Shut up!” Pietro shouted, flinging both of his hands up and freezing time in the attic.

Barnes froze, smirking and about to snap his fingers again.

The creature did not.

“But that is not,” Wanda gasped, reaching out and taking one of her twin’s outstretched hands and clutching it painfully tight.

“Possible,” Pietro wheezed, fear clenching back around his heart as he fought the urge to blink away.

The creature flipped the athame it had caught so it was holding the handle and reached up to grab the other embedded in its shoulder. 

“He has to be,” Wanda said, unable to tear her eyes away from the monstrous man.

“A witch?” Pietro asked incredulously, shaking his head and taking a step back.

The knife caught on the man’s sleeve, ripping it away as he pulled it free and the ice spread over the wound. 

Tears spilled down Wanda’s cheeks as she saw it.

Pietro took a step forward as he saw it.

As red as the day he was born, featured in all three of the photos his mother had of him, was the star on James Buchanan Halliwell’s shoulder.

“James!” the twins gasped, unable to believe that they were seeing their long dead elder brother.

James frowned but didn't move. He hadn't been given an order yet and had to wait until his master unfroze and told him to finish the witches that were speaking to him in soft tones. The snap came a moment later as time restarted. Flinching again as the ice spread, James received his orders and stumbled forward to kill.

Shrieking as she dodged her brother’s attack, Wanda stumbled and grabbed at James’s right arm as she fell. Still holding tight to Pietro’s hand as her hand landed onto her other brother, a blossom of light swelled around them as their powers met for the first times in their lives.

“The power of three,” George Barnes whispered, eyes wide with fear as he realized who the witches were. That blasted whore witch had more children?! He had to act fast.

“The power of three will set us free,” Pietro whispered, eyes widening before quickly reaching out to take James’s right hand and shouting. “The power of three will set us free!”

Wanda took up the chant, adding her power to her twin’s and calling out to their lost brother to find his way back to them.

A swirl of magic appeared around the charmed ones, blowing open the attic windows and letting the storm in. Papers and dust flew around the room as stacks of books toppled to the ground and the candles scattered around the room went out. The light growing in the witch’s circle now lit the dark room, flashing in time with the lightning outside.

James thrashed against the magic and grip of the witches, trying to rip his arm away from them as images and feelings flashed through his head. A warmth was growing inside him, just out of reach, as he felt himself being torn in two different directions. The ice in his soul battled with that warmth of a smile from a blond man in his heart. “The power of three,” James gasped, clutching at his pounding head with his left hand as the ice encasing it melted away. “Will set us free!”

The power around them exploded outward and with a gasp James broke free. As everything his father had done came crashing down on him, the half demon half witch pulled away from his siblings to turn and face the real monster.

“You stole me!” he choked out, tears gathering in his eyes, “So you could make me kill my own mother!”

George Barnes’s glamor fell as his anger got the better of him. His skin turned white as ice and frost curled across it as his eyes turned to two completely blue orbs. Cursing as his son’s power slipped out of his fingers, the demon summoned up his own to destroy the ungrateful brat.

Holding out his hands behind him, James felt his siblings take them and the power of three flow through him. “Demon of cruelty, Monster of pain. Our powers strip you of all your dark gains.”

George staggered backwards as the lightning in his palm fizzled out and a spout of fire burned a circle around his feet. “No!”

“Our powers turn your darkness back, let your victims be the attack.” 

Looking up from the fire consuming him, George shouted desperately. “If you kill me, you will never see him again!”

Voice cracking, James let himself feel the last bit of pain his father would ever cause him and finished the spell. “With these words you are condemned, our pain is your end!”

With a scream, George Barnes exploded, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor that blew out an open window.

Falling to his knees, James broke down, clutching at his arms and shaking as he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”


	4. Welcome Home

James awoke with a start. It wasn't the ache in his head that woke him, nor the dryness of his mouth. It wasn't the unfamiliar silence that New York never had. It wasn't that the mattress beneath him was softer than anything he had felt before, nor that the blankets were warmer than any of the many that he stockpiled for the dreaded winter months.

It was waking up alone.

James sat up and stared at the strange bedroom, the memories of the night before fitting into place as his eyes flicked from the lace curtains to the intricately carved vanity, with each of its colorful boxes neatly lined up in a row, to the small clock that rested on the bedside cabinet and slowly ticked its way towards 3:40 am.

James buried his face in his hands and for a moment considered crying himself back to sleep. But the tears wouldn't come as a disbelieving numbness settled over him. It had to be some kind of joke, his father couldn't be dead. Twin siblings? Being a Charmed One? Impossible. So he got up to look for the punchline.

Slipping as quietly as he could out of the bedroom he had been put in the night before, James glanced up and down the hall. Vaguely recalling being helped down from the attic, he instead turned and went the other way, sliding a finger across the dark wood door frames and flowery wallpaper. James found himself at the top of a set of stairs leading down to a small landing and then to the first floor of the manor. Pausing on each step, he stared at the photographs that hung on the walls beside him.

The ones near the top of the stairs seemed newer and James easily recognized the twins smiling out of them. One showed Pietro at the end of a marathon, holding a metal and grinning broadly. Another had Wanda at a college graduation, her arm around her brother and throwing her hat into the air. A third with both of them standing side by side in front of the elegant red manor with its white trimmed windows and surrounded by flowers.

Halfway to the landing, a new figure started appearing in the photos. An older woman with long dark red hair and hints of mischief and sadness in her light blue eyes. James stared at one photo depicting the woman standing in front of a small shop with her arms around the grinning twins. He started and nearly slipped as he realized. He was looking at his mother.

While James had always wondered about the woman who had given birth to him, or more specifically, had been able to put up with his father long enough to have a child. He had had too many other concerns to give her much thought. But now his mind was reeling. Who was she? Was she kind and caring? What kind of books did she read? Did she like to cook? Or was she like him and burned everything except potions? Did she miss him?

A lump caught in the back of James’s throat as he reminded himself that it didn't matter, Wanda had said she was dead. Blinking hard, he turned the corner of the landing and hurried past the last few photos.

Stepping down, James surveyed the wreckage of the entryway, the destruction he had caused, and tried to picture what it had looked like before. If the stained glass in the front doors hadn't been smashed, or the lacy curtains that used to cover them weren't blackened and burned. He thought it would have been beautiful.

The grandfather clock next to what was left of the makeshift altar on top of a marble topped table, chimed the four o’clock hour.

James moved past the mess, stepping over part of the smashed wooden dining room table and avoiding the masses of splinters stuck into the faded rug beneath it. He was pleasantly surprised to find the kitchen clean, the potions and caldrons he vaguely recalled seeing during his demonic rampage now neatly stacked in one corner and piled in a drain rack. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow to match the light-colored wood cabinets. There were colorful mugs lined up behind glass cabinet doors and white towels and curtains carefully hung and reflecting streetlights from outside. There were several metallic looking boxes and rectangles sitting on the counters with cords plugged into electrical sockets and James cautiously poked at one with two slots cut into the top of it. After poking at the buttons and getting no response, he finally pushed the lever looking thing and with a click the inside of the slots started to glow red and emit heat.

“A toaster?” he whispered, shocked at how different it looked from the ones he had seen before.

Shaking his head, James continued to snoop. Not finding anything interesting inside what he realized was an ice box, he closed the door and examined the contents of its exterior. There were a few handwritten reminders held in place by magnets in the shape of conical hats and smoking cauldrons and dominating the right side was a calendar with days crossed off with a red marker.

James stared at it, rubbed his eyes and stared some more. March 11th, 2015. 70 years, he had been taken 70 years into the future. Reeling with this realization, James didn't notice the faint chime and white lights behind him.

Thaddeus Ross waved away the last of his orbs and stared at the strange man in his charges’ kitchen at four o’clock in the morning. Frowning, he spoke harshly to him. “Who the hell-”

James jumped and spun around, throwing out his left hand purely by panicked instinct. Lightning flashed from it, striking Ross in his chest and sending him flying backward and vanishing into another swirl of white lights as he hit the wall of the conservatory. 

“Oh god,” James whispered, hurrying over to where the man who had startled him had vanished, “Oh no, I didn't mean to do that!”

There was a great clattering from upstairs but just as Pietro and Wanda rushed down the stairs to see what the commotion had been, they saw James being thrown through the stained-glass window wall of the conservatory. Wanda shrieked and Pietro blinked outside to their brother’s side.

James seemed more shocked than hurt and scrambled to his feet, throwing out an arm to protect Pietro from his attacker.

“Ross?!” Pietro said, staring at the angry man who was getting ready to level another blast of white light at James.

“Stop it!” Wanda shouted, running up behind their whitelighter and grabbing his arm.

“A demon infiltrates the manor and you tell me to stop?” Ross asked incredulously. “Why does the house look like a battlefield? Why didn't you call me? I’m your whitelighter, you should have called me!”

Pietro rolled his eyes at this and Wanda ground her teeth together. “So you could stand around and tell us what we are doing wrong?” the silver haired witch muttered under his breath.

“He's your whitelighter?” James gasped, realizing how horrible his mistake really was. Whitelighters were guardian angels for witches, a potent combination of fierce protective nature and healing magic, according to his father. James swallowed hard and took a step forward. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to attack you-”

“Didn't mean to!?” Ross shouted, cutting James off. “You're a demon, attacking the forces of good is what you do!”

“No!” James said, shaking his head as tears started to sting his eyes. “I just got here from the past and-”

“Then do us all a favor and go back to where you belong!” Ross yelled, raising his hand once again.

James's eyes snapped shut as his body shook and he collapsed in on himself. He gasped a moment later as the quiet dark of early morning was replaced with the sounds of a city fully awake and the bright sun shining halfway up the sky.

James had gone back to where he belonged. On the roof of an ancient apartment building in Brooklyn, New York. But not his Brooklyn. Impossibly tall skyscrapers covered in shiny steel and glass filled the skyline. Billboards and mini movie screens promoted things that James had never heard of and showed people he didn't know. People dressed in strange fashions and skintight clothing moved down the streets that were now filled with sleek looking cars.

70 years had taken away the place that Bucky Barnes had belonged and turned it into an empty, uncaring, alien world. Horror, guilt, loss and panic tumbled and turned inside the young man until he felt like he was being torn apart. With a choked sob he turned and ran, that strange shivering feeling passing over him as he shimmered away.

-

Wanda spent two minutes explaining the return of James and the union of the Charmed Ones to Ross and the next four minutes panicking.

Pietro spent the entire six minutes from when James had vanished to when he shimmered back, panicking.

The witches had been yelling at their whitelighter to 'quit standing in the middle of the room looking like someone has thrown up on your prized Italian shoes and find our brother' when said brother reappeared, ran full tilt into the corner of the china cabinet and dropped like a stone to the conservatory’s tiled floor.

He did not get back up.

The twins threw themselves to his side at once and gently turned their brother over to see a deep gash to his head gushing blood.

“No no no!” Pietro squeaked, shaking like a leaf and creating even more of a mess as he grabbed at a tablecloth and the tea set on top came with it. 

“Do not just stand there!” Wanda yelled at Ross as she saw the whitelighter keeping his distance with a thoughtful frown. “Heal him!”

Ross watched his charges frantically try and stop the blood that was quickly spreading across the tiled floor then shook his head. “No.”

For a moment the twins stared at him with matching looks of horror before speaking together. “What?!”

Ross straightened his shoulders and held his head high as he explained. “I am responsible for protecting the Halliwell witches-”

“He is our brother,” Pietro whispered

“And whitelighters are not allowed to heal demons-”

“He is a Charmed One,” Wanda hissed.

“No exceptions.” Ross finished with an officious nod of his head

With a howl of rage, Wanda threw her magic around the whitelighter, turning him back into a swirl of orbs and throwing him out of her home. Flipping her hand over, the red-haired witch summoned her cell phone from across the room and dialed 911.

-

A faint rhythmic beep pulled Bucky from the mucky darkness of his pounding head. The bed he was in had a few lumps and hard spots but was too soft for him to get some decent sleep. Dragging his eyes open, the young man gave the room he was in a once over. 

His head hurt too much to figure out the strange looking machines clustered around the small bed with rails on its sides but the off white walls and lingering scent of disinfectant made it all too clear where Bucky was. A hospital.

Bucky was more familiar than most with hospitals after many visits to see Stevie and his mother, Sarah. Some of those visits had even been happy, filled with stolen moments during lunch breaks or quiet evenings when Stevie could finally come home. But after Sarah had died and left Bucky to make the impossible decisions of whether or not to take Stevie in when his health deteriorated and risk the bills and unhelpful advice that the doctors only ever seemed to dispense, he had found himself hating them just as much as Stevie. 

A faint smile passed across Bucky’s face as he thought of his beloved little punk. No doubt Stevie would be wearing a vindictive little smirk when he came to collect his boyfriend, delighted at the fact that it was finally his turn to play nursemaid for Bucky.

The door opened and Bucky’s smile vanished at the sight of bright red hair. A doctor was coming in, but Wanda had seen that her brother’s eyes were open and was giving him a hugely relieved smile.

Swallowing hard, Bucky glanced down at the slim green colored band around the blood-stained cuff of his shirt and the name written along it. James Halliwell.

“You gave your siblings quite the fright, Mr. Halliwell,” the doctor said in his profession’s typical attempt at shitty humor as he closed the door behind him.

James said nothing and tried not to cry. He couldn't tell the doctor what day it was, he couldn't tell him where he lived, he could barely force that name between his lips. He straight up lied about how his head felt and wished the blasted man would just get out already.

But the doctor just frowned and pulled a small light from out of his pocket to shine in James’s eyes. A few more tests and finally the doctor declared that James could be released into his siblings’ care, so long as he took it easy, and headed for the door to get the discharge papers.

James waited until the irritating man left then kicked the blankets aside and climbed to his feet, gritting his teeth as the pain increased. Taking a breath, James tried to find that feeling that had overcome him when he had shimmered. Like a cold shiver down his spine. 

He was more careful this time and managed not to shimmer into anything in the destroyed manor. Taking one pain laced glance around at what he had brought into the Halliwells’ life, James picked through the mess until he found what he needed.

Setting an end table back on its feet, James used the stub of chalk he had found to carefully draw an intricate spell circle on the wood surface. He didn't hear the pop from next to the front door as he hissed slightly at pricking his finger with a needle and letting three drops of blood fall into the center of the circle. As the third drop hit the table, the circle vanished in a puff of smoke and was replaced with an army issue duffle bag, fully packed.

“What do you think you are doing!” Wanda asked, anger coloring her voice as she let go of Pietro’s hand to have both of hers free to wave around in frustration.

James jumped, finally seeing his siblings, and grabbed at the straps of his duffle. “I'm leaving, before I do any more damage.”

“No you are not!” Wanda shouted, grabbing a strap as well.

“Please, just give us a chance,” Pietro begged, getting between his sister and brother, trying to calm them down.

James tried to pull his bag away, shaking his head. “I’ll hurt you, it's why I was made! It's what I always do! I gotta leave!”

Wanda pulled the bag towards her and shouted back. “No, you will not! You are our brother, you belong here!”

James blinked back tears and fumbled, trying to get a better grip to pull free from his sister. The slap of a book hitting the floor brought him up short. The zipper had worked its way open and something had fallen out. Packing that bag and the fear it signified had burned every item inside into James’s head. He knew every single thing in that duffle bag and he hadn't packed that.

He didn't hear his siblings’ voices; he didn't hear himself drop the bag to the floor. James reached down and carefully picked up the charcoal smudged sketchbook. He didn't feel his knees buckle or notice his fingers shaking as he flipped to the first page.

The face of a thin young man, his head slightly tilted, smiled up at him with that soft loving kind of smile Stevie always wore. ‘So you don't forget.’ was scrawled in a spidery hand across the top of the page.

“He's gone” James whispered as the reality of what he had lost finally set in.

70 long years had taken away the man he loved.

“He's gone.”

-

James didn't look up as Wanda gently knocked on his open bedroom door, carefully turning another page of Stevie’s old sketchbook and scratching the head of a huge white cat, that they really needed to name now that it had adopted them. It hurt to see all the old drawings, it hurt even more to think that his lover had carefully crafted each page so that the book would be full of all the things that Bucky had loved. Their small apartment in Brooklyn, Coney Island, and summer picnics on the roof.

“You could go back,” Pietro said meekly from beside his sister.

“Don’t,” James murmured, finally looking up at them. “Don't say that.”

“You are hurting,” Wanda said, guilty looking away, “if we returned you to the past…”

James tried to smile, he really did, but he wasn't sure he managed it. “It's only been a week, I’m grieving.”

Taking the unspoken invitation, the twins slipped through the door, climbed up onto the bed, looped their arms around their older brother and sent the cat jumping to the ground and stalking out the open door. 

“But your father time traveled,” Pietro pressed, rubbing his forehead against James’s shoulder.

James snorted and carefully set the book aside to take the twins’ hands. “Dad didn't care about the damage he could have caused by meddling in the past. If I went back, anything could happen. You two could die, the world could end, or it could rain tomorrow. Stevie would never forgive me for taking that chance.”

Wanda looked at the magically sealed and framed sketch of their brother’s Stevie sitting on the vanity. “He sounds like a good person.”

James really did smile that time, though it was heavily tempered by sadness. “He was the first person to give a damn about me, first person to make me give a damn about myself. I didn't stand a chance.”

Then he frowned and looked at his siblings. “Well, I thought he was the first, dad told me mom ditched us, but I guess him stealing me kinda puts a wrinkle in that story.”

Licking his lips, James looked shyly down at their hands. “What was she like?”

The twins exchanged a look and then got up, gently pulling James to his feet. They smiled at his puzzled expression and led him up the stairs to the attic. 

Letting go, Wanda summoned up a circle of candles as Pietro opened the book of shadows. Joining her brother as the candles lit themselves, they quietly recited the spell. “Hear these words, hear my cry. Spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the great divide.”

A swirl of bright white light appeared in the center of the circle of candles, clearing to show the ghost of a woman. 

She tutted at the twins and put her hands on her hips. “What happened now?” she asked in a thick Russian accent.

James stared at the woman facing away from him. He didn't need to see the face that looked out from the photos on the walls of the manor, he knew her voice as if he had heard it yesterday. “Mom?”

Winifred Halliwell turned sharply and gasped at the sight of her first born. “James?”

James nodded numbly and watched the ghost of his mother step out of the ring of candles and gain physical form. He couldn't move his feet but found his arms clutching at his mother as she hugged him tightly and whispered soft words in Russian. 

He had lost count of the tears he had shed since returning to the present day but as he felt Wanda and Pietro join their mother in holding him tight, James felt the first happy tears spilling over his eyelashes. “I’m home.”


	5. In Our Sight

James poked his head over the kitchen counter. “I’m fine,” he said before ducking back down to continue rummaging through the cauldrons.

“You have not left this house in two months,” Wanda said gently, leaning on said counter and talking to the top of her brother’s head.

“I went to Magic School last week to get my hair spelled!!” James countered with a superior head waggle that caused his, now shoulder length, locks to shimmer in the early morning sunlight that filled the kitchen.

“Magic School does not count,” Pietro said, edging around James to get to the coffee pot. 

Craning his neck to watch his younger brother yawn into his ‘Gotta Go Fast’ coffee cup, James frowned. “Why doesn't Magic School count!”

“It is more out of touch with the modern world than you are,” the silver haired witch grumbled, pouring another four spoonful’s of sugar into his cup.

“And you shimmered out the second you heard father come into the room,” Wanda murmured gently as she passed her ‘Don't Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Witch’s Brew’ mug to Pietro for a hot tea refill.

James hunched his shoulders and lowered back down below the countertop and got back to digging in the cabinets and avoiding the conversation. “That was an unintentional ‘oh god my new stepfather is right behind me’ shimmer out!”

The twins gave each other a look over their brother’s head and switched tactics.

“If you faced your fears of the modern world, you would not have so many unintentional shimmers,” Pietro pointed out in a wheedling tone as he gathered several boxes of sugary cereal into his arms, pouring them all into one bowl and covering it in chocolate sauce and strawberry milk, to the disgust of his siblings. “It would not have taken me a month to stop blinking when I hiccupped if Wanda had forced me out of the house.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? What if I expose magic by shimmering out in front of…. Alpine, what the hell!” James gave a muffled grunt from half inside the cabinet and emerged with the largest cauldron they own that was completely filled with a happily purring white cat. The family familiar had bullied his way into the house two days after James’s return and promptly plopped himself down on top of the returned witch and refused to leave.

Sighing as he resigned the cauldron to its new life purpose as a cat bed, James glared up at his siblings. “Give me one real reason for me to leave the house!”

“We are out of potion ingredients,” Wanda said dryly over her tea.

James frowned and watched as all upper kitchen cabinets opened under a swirl of red mist and revealed their empty interiors.

“Damn it,” he muttered, slumping slightly and giving Alpine a chin scratch. With a very loud grumble, the older witch hauled himself to his feet and, taking the cauldron and cat with him, walked out of the kitchen.

“Unless you can muster up a shimmer down to the shop and back,” Pietro called through a mouthful of cereal.

“I’m getting my coat!” James yelled back, followed by the grumbly stomping of feet up the stairs.

Giving each other a grin, the twins quickly cleaned up the kitchen, picked up their own coats and bags and waited by the front doors for the grumbly stomping of feet back down the stairs.

Pausing at the landing and still holding Alpine, James gave his siblings a pitiful look. “Would one of you walk me back?” he finally mumbled, scuffing at the carpet with his combat boot.

He was met with a matching pair of grins as his siblings held out their hands to him. Finally coaxed down the last few steps and setting Alpine's cauldron in a puddle of sunshine, James took the twins’ hands.

“Of course we will,” Wanda murmured, gently tucking a strand of her older brother’s hair behind his ear and summoning his sunglasses from between the couch cushions.

“We can even stop by that little deli you like and get lunch to go.” Pietro said, excitedly pouncing on his heels and pulling the front doors open.

The Halliwells walked out of their ancestral home, a stately three-story manor painted bright red with white trim on top of a small hill covered in brightly colored flowers. Locking the front doors with their curtain covered windows set in the centers, that they had had to replace after James came blasting into their lives, the Charmed Ones set out into the spring morning.

The walk to the shop was relatively uneventful and the twins only had to pull the ‘very sheltered Russian immigrant’ story once when James was caught staring in confused fascination at a drag queen. The story received its usual empathetic head nod and the queen gently pressed her card into James's hand in case he ever felt like giving drag a try. They reached Warren’s Tea and Spice just before 9 am in a sleepy little side of town filled with knick-knack shops and antique stores.

James had never seen their mother’s shop before and felt very odd looking at the small building with its clean windows filled with plants and crystals. There were chimes on the door and the inside smelled like sandalwood and the old books that lined one wall. Several rows of shelves and the wall behind the register were covered with jars of spices and herbs that ranged from spell ingredients to medicinal and pleasant tasting. Next to the cash register, that James actually recognized, it was so old, was a complicated looking machine covered in shiny pipes and handles.

“What do you think?” Wanda asked as she flipped the sign on the door from Closed to Open.

James smiled as he ran his finger along a display of charms and crystals hung on cords. “It’s great!”

“We think so too,” Pietro said with a grin, slipping past the curtain behind the front desk into the back room, “Pick out the herbs you need, I will get a basket.”

Taking a deep, happy breath, James slipped between the shelves of herbs and started poking about for the things he needed for his potions. He was debating on which strain of wolfsbane would be better for vanquishing potions when the door chime echoed through the chart.

“Sam!” Wanda called, the delight in her voice calming James’s jumpy nerves slightly. “They have you working on Saturdays now?”

A man’s voice, slurred with exhaustion, grumbled back. “kidnappers don't care what day it is. And of course, Brock is on administrative leave again so I gotta work twice as hard! Could really use some of your coffee magic today.”

Wanda made a sympathetic noise and there were several strange sounds followed by the hiss of steam. “I will make it a double.”

Taking a breath, James told himself to get it together and picked up a set of jars “Ginseng would be better,” he called, coming out from between the shelves, setting the jars on the counter and startling the tall black man who had been slumped across it. “With some ginkgo and ashwagandha.”

The man gave James a look over and glanced at Wanda who smiled. “Sam, this is my older brother James. James, this is SHIELD Agent Sam Wilson.”

Looking back at James fiddling with his jars, Sam gave him a surprised look and crossed his arms. “Is that right?”

James met his eyes and stood his ground. “Do you trust me?”

Whatever Sam saw in the newest Halliwell’s light blue eyes seemed to satisfy him and he gave him a slight nod.

Offering Sam a rare smile, James walked around the counter and took the small container of milk Wanda had been about to stick one of the strange tubes on the now steaming machine into. Carefully measuring the three herbs into a mortar and pestle he had found under the counter, James turned his back to Sam and murmured a rejuvenation spell as he ground them into a fine powder. He added the powder to the milk and handed it back to his sister.

Wanda steamed the milk, topped off Sam’s latte and set his steel coffee cup on the counter.

Sam blinked at it then shrugged and took a sip. Then he took a longer sip, grinned and held out his right hand. “Damn man, that works fast. It’s a pleasure to meet you”

James smiled and reached out to shake the man’s hand. As soon as he touched Sam, he was dragged away. The room went dark and James saw Sam standing farther away from him, muddy and pointing an odd looking gun at a figure in black with a ghostly white bald head. The figure’s back was to James but it held up one of its black gloved hands in a clenching motion. Sam’s eyes bulged as he grabbed at his throat and began choking. His knees buckled and he fell to the filthy ground, limp and dead.

James inhaled sharply as his vision cleared and he let Sam’s hand go to catch himself on the edge of the counter. His ears were ringing and he could barely make out Wanda, Sam and Pietro's worried voices. “I’m fine!” he said quickly, shaking off their hands and ginning awkwardly. “Everything is swell!”

“Swell?” Sam asked, keeping his hands up as the strangest Halliwell yet staggered around the counter, waving his hands about.

“Yeah, it's all dandy!” James said, sounding more and more hysterical as he shooed Sam and his coffee out the door, “thanks for your business, bye now!”

“Dandy?” Sam muttered to the sidewalk as the door to Warren’s shut behind him. Shrugging it off as just another Halliwell peculiarity, Sam headed off to continue his investigation and drink his new favorite coffee.

“What was that?” Wanda asked, worried and confused as she watched her older brother hide behind a herb shelf incase Sam tried to come back inside.

“Hell if I know,” James muttered, peeking out cautiously, “it was like I was seeing the-”

“Future!” Pietro shouted, suddenly excited. “That is the third power of the Charmed Ones! Wanda has telekinesis, I have the power to freeze time and you can see the future, just like mother!”

“That's not a good thing, Pietro!” James snapped, eyes getting huge as he started to panic.

Wanda shook her head at her boys and gently but firmly sat James down in one of the mismatched armchairs around the three small tables pushed up against one wall of the shop. “Mother used her gift to prevent the bad futures she saw, and we will do the same for whatever you saw today.”

James glanced up as his little sister who seemed so much more suited to this magical destiny they were supposed to have than he ever would be. Taking a deep breath, he tried to push all the fears threatening to tear him apart and focus on the vision he was shown.

-

“There are a lot of demons that choke people, James. Can you not remember anything else?” Pietro asked as he flipped aimlessly through the Book of Shadows. 

“Next time I get kidnapped by the future to foretell someone’s death I'll be sure to take notes,” James grumbled, trying to massage the ache in his head away. “Bald and pale I think, but it was hard to tell in the light.”

“But definitely a sewer tunnel?” Wanda pressed, struggling with several large maps of San Francisco’s sewer system.

“I think so, it looked a lot like the ones Dad took me to as a kid back in Brooklyn. So it would probably be an older section.” James mused.

Pietro frowned and slowly looked up from the book. “Your father took you into the sewers as a kid?”

James shot his brother a look, hauled himself off the attic’s cushy couch and walked over. “Let’s focus on the demon that's still alive, shall we?” he said, regretting his irritable tone as soon as the words left his mouth.

Pietro, however, simply smiled understandingly and pushed the book over so they both could see it. 

“Sam is your friend, isn't he?” James blurted out after a few pages. “Can't we just tell him not to go into the sewers?”

Wanda shook her head as she smoothed out the last of the maps and picked up a scrying crystal. “We met him when he came into the shop looking for information on a demonic killing that he was working on for SHIELD. We do what we can to help him stop whatever evil is behind his cases, but we have not had the ‘magic is real’ talk yet.”

“And every time we tell him to not get involved he runs head long in.” Pietro added grumpily.

“Right, and SHEILD is?” James asked, leaning his elbow on the book and waving his hand pointedly.

His siblings stared at him for a moment then Pietro slapped a hand to his forehead. “Founded after the war, you have never heard of them! It is a special law enforcement, and counter-terrorism agency. They have replaced the police in most cities and pride themselves on their progressive, intensive training programs and never carrying deadly weapons. Sam’s stun gun is very cool.”

“Oh,” James said, face crumpled in confusion as he turned to Wanda. “Stun gun?”

Shaking her head, the witch smiled fondly at her twin. “He begged Sam for hours to try it on him, quietest four hours I have had in years.”

James still looked confused but turned away and silence fell again. After a few more minutes of flipping through the Book of Shadows, James slammed his hand down.

“Grimlocks!” he shouted, excitedly tapping the page.

“Are you sure?” Wanda asked, making as if to stand but thinking better of it and keeping the scrying crystal swinging over the maps.

James shrugged and flipped the pages on either side of the Grimlock’s entry. “Well our ancestors didn’t draw the back of their heads but I mean come on, a child sight stealing, bald headed demon that lives in sewers and sees the aura of good people and chokes them to death. That's got to be it! They must be targeting Sam because of his good guy detective aura.”

“Steals children? Sam said he was on a kidnapping case,” Wanda reminded them. “He could be looking for the children they stole. Does it say how to stop them?”

Pietro hummed then tapped a section further down the page. “A potion, but we must hurry, they will only keep the children alive for two days, and we do not know when they were taken.”

All three fell silent as the scrying crystal dropped, marking an older section of sewer near an outfall across town. “And now we know where,” Wanda murmured, looking from the crystal to her brothers.

James picked up the book headed for the stairs. “We’ll start the potion. Wanda, you call Sam and make up whatever lie you have to keep him away from those sewers!”

-

Sam was going over witness statements and savoring the delicious, albeit slightly gritty, dregs of his coffee when his cell phone started playing the Halliwell's special ringtone. Magic by Pilot. Grinning to himself on such a clever ringtone choice, Sam picked it up. “Wilson.”

“I would like to leave an anonymous tip.” a voice that was clearly Wanda’s attempt to disguise her gender and heavy Russian accent said from the other end.

Sam sighed. “For the last time Wanda, you have to call me from a burner phone if you want to be anonymous.”

There was a moment of silence followed by several words that Sam was starting to recognize as Russian curses before Wanda spoke again, dropping her fake voice. “I know where the missing children are and you need to go to them right now.”

“Really?” Sam asked, not bothered to point out that he hadn't said anything about missing kids.

“They are in a small fishing shack near the bay.” Wanda said, rattling off an address which Sam quickly scribbled down. “Sam, you must go there at once.”

Sam’s pen slowed and he narrowed his eyes but before he could ask why the line went dead. Setting his phone aside, he looked down at the address. It was possible that Wanda was telling him the truth this time, but her insistence that he, himself, go. Well, she had made that insistence before and the agent had found himself in the middle of nowhere followed by another strange case going unsolved.

“Here's that info you wanted,” Agent Hogan said, dropping a folder on Sam's desk.

“Hang on a second, Happy.” Sam said, opening the folder. “I knew it, these sewer lines near where the kids were taken all connect right here, near this outfall. And those stranglings were here, here and here, all on the same line.”

“You think two unrelated kidnappings are related to three, also unrelated, stranglings?” Happy asked, giving the senior agent an incredulous look.

Sam, realizing how crazy he sounded, quickly shoved the folder aside. “Do me a favor and take a couple of your trainees to this address,” he said instead, handing Happy the slip of paper he had written Wanda’s address on.

Happy gave him a nod and walked away. Sam grabbed his jacket, finished his coffee and checked his gun. He felt a little bad blowing the Halliwells off but he wasn’t about to fuck around with the lives of two kids on the line.

-

“Did he buy it?” James asked as his sister walked the length of the kitchen for the tenth time.

“I think so, but Sam is not stupid. He will figure out that our tips never go anywhere soon and then what.”

Pietro offered Wanda a small smile as he carefully finished pouring the green colored vanquishing potion into the third mason jar. “Tomorrow's problem, we each take one and I will blink us to the outfall.”

The twins grabbed their jars and then turned to look at their elder brother. 

James was biting his lip and avoiding their eyes before finally speaking haltingly. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“What?”

“I mean,” he stammered, shrinking away. “We don't know how my other half will react to other demons! my dad-”

“Failed in turning you against us,” Wanda said firmly, walking over to take her brother's hand. “We are strongest together.”

James didn't look convinced but accepted his jar from Pietro and nodded his consent as his brother rested his hand on his right shoulder. With a faint pop they blinked across town and appeared next to a set of old rusted doors and a car.

“Damn him!” Pietro cursed at the car, “that is Sam’s!”

“Go go go go!” Wanda hissed, jumping for the doors and wrenching them open.

The Charmed Ones hurried into the sewer but were faced with a split in the tunnel only a few yards in.

“You two go right,” James called over his shoulder, already running down the left tunnel.

It was just as oppressive and rank as James remembered from those hated trips years ago with his father into the Brooklyn sewer system. Shaking his head to rid himself of the memory, he nearly slipped but managed to catch himself and round the sharp corner. And he ran, right into the future he had seen.

Sam gasped weakly, one hand at his throat as the other shook with the effort of holding his gun. The same hulking man from James's vision had one gloved hand reaching out in a choking gesture at the unlucky soul it had found in its sewer.

Anger rose up in James’s throat, an icy rage at seeing this bottom feeding scum in his territory. Cold slid up his left hand along with the wild urge to destroy the demon. 

Sam’s knees hitting the floor of the sewer startled James into action. Shouting at the demon, he unscrewed the lid of his jar and leapt forward.

The Grimlock turned, its hideous smile vanishing as it stared at the witch. The demon’s shocked expression turned to agony as the green colored potion splashed into its face and melted it down into a puddle that vanished a moment later.

“Sam?!” James shouted, jumping over where the Grimlock puddle had been and running to the SHIELD agent's side.

“What the.. Fuck was… That!” Sam panted as he was dragged to his feet.

A crash from somewhere down the tunnel made both men jump.

“Get to the surface,” James whispered, shoving Sam back the way he had come while keeping his eyes locked on the tunnel ahead.

“Hell no! I am a SHIELD agent! There's no way-”

“Now!” James hissed, glaring at Sam as his eyes flashed an ethereal icy blue.

“I’ll wait outside,” Sam said in a rush and hurried away.

James ran down the tunnel, running as quietly as he could. It was an odd feeling, rushing into unknown danger after facing a future he had seen. He couldn't quite decide which he preferred.

“James?” Wanda’s voice echoed from around a corner.

“Wanda!” James rounded the corner to find his sister with her arms around two young boys and an empty jar at her feet.

“Did you find Sam?” she asked.

James nodded, catching his breath and looking around the Grimlock’s hideout. It was a mass of twisted metal, chain link fences, broken glass and unpleasant ooze. “Clipped the demon and sent Sam topside, he's going to have questions though.” 

“It looks like there were only two,” Pietro said, coming in from a different tunnel with his jar still at the ready. “Let's get out of here.”

James and Pietro each picked up a child and Wanda took the last jar and guided them out of the sewers. As she pushed the doors to the surface open Sam leapt about a foot into the air and threw his gun up. Recovering quickly, the agent hurried forward to check on the children. Reassured that they were ok and tucked safely in the back of his car, Sam turned his attention to the Halliwell siblings.

“I knew there was something,” he started but was interrupted by the faint sounds of sirens quickly growing louder.

“This is going to be hard to explain,” Wanda muttered.

James nodded then frowned. “Did we ever get me declared ‘not dead anymore’?”

Sam felt a headache coming on. Sighing loudly, he waved at the siblings. “Go, just go. I’ll figure something out. But we are talking about this later!”

Pietro grinned, taking hold of both of his siblings' shoulders just before all three vanished into thin air with a faint popping sound.

“I fucking knew it,” Sam muttered under his breath.

-

Hours later the Charmed Ones were sprawled across the living room couch and floor watching the news story of two young children found in a sewer tunnel.

“You did that,” Wanda murmured, gently squeezing James’s shoulder. 

James let out a noncommittal hum and rubbed the palm of his left hand against his jeans. The cold feeling was still there. The Grimlock had tempted his demonic half, but not in the way he had assumed. The fear was still there however, fear of his other half and what it might do now that he had access to his powers.

“Stop wiggling,” Pietro grumbled to his sister as he carefully rebandaged the gash on her arm that she had gotten on a piece of metal in the sewer.

Pulled from his brooding, James frowned. “Can't we just call-”

“No!” the twins snapped, promoting their other brother to groan loudly and roll his eyes.

“Either they heal all of us or none of us,” Wanda repeated for the umpteenth time since James had come back into their lives.

“It's not like the Elders expected a half demon half witch, and the ‘whitelighters not being allowed to heal demons’ rule makes sense in every other circumstance.” James argued back, also for the umpteenth time.

The doorbell interrupted the unending argument. After smoothing down one last piece of medical tape, Pietro hopped off the couch and went to answer it. But not before getting the last word in. “We are the Charmed Ones, if the Elders expect us to do what no other witches have done before then they should be prepared to treat us differently than all other witches.”

Sam stared at Pietro who had opened the door in time for the agent to catch the last part of his statement. “Now when you say witches, do you mean...”

“Black conical hats and cackling? Yes, come on in.” Pietro chirped, waving Sam into the manor.

“I was afraid you were going to say that” Sam muttered as he walked in and flopped down into an armchair. “I had a lot of theories and magic was pretty high up there, but witches?”

“James is half demon, if that makes you feel better,” Wanda offered, tying off his braid.

James waved awkwardly.

Sam gave them all a look that said very clearly that it didn't make him feel the least bit better. 

Shrugging, Wanda waved her hand and a waft of her red magic lifted the teapot on the coffee table and poured Sam a cup that floated over to the wide eyed agent. “How much do you want to know, Sam?”

Sam stared at his cup for a long minute then took a sip and nodded, his mind made up. “Start from the beginning.”

“We found out we were witches when we were thirteen,” Wanda said, motioning for Pietro to sit next to her and smiling as James gave her a startled look. He hadn’t heard this story yet, too focused on getting to know who his siblings were now in this alien future world to hear much about their childhood.

“Mother bound our powers at birth,” Wanda continued, “she was afraid that her ex-husband would come after us and take us away, like he had with James, if he found out about our powers. On our thirteenth birthday she had a premonition of a great evil attacking us and decided that preparing us for the battle was better than fearing an enemy that might never return. She unbound our powers and we have been fighting evil ever since. Until she was taken from us by that water demon last year.”

“Demon? Like that man?” Sam interrupted.

Wanda smiled and nodded. “Yes, he was a demon, you have a strange skill for getting all the supernatural assignments, Sam.”

Sam nodded absentmindedly, processing everything. “The evil your mom saw-”

“Was me,” James blurted out, wincing as Sam gave him a concerned look. “Not me me, kind of me, I mean I didn't want to attack, it was dad! I just cast a spell and he-” James forced his mouth shut, blushing heavily, his desire to get the heck away from this awkward conversation suddenly granted as he accidently shimmered out of the room.

Sam’s eyes bulged and the twins sighed. “He has been having trouble adapting,” Wanda said softly, “today was the first day we got him out of the house.”

“Where did his father take him?” Sam whispered back, leaning forward.

“1917,” James said, shimmering back into the living room with Alpine in his arms purring comfortingly and nuzzling his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, did you say?” Sam asked, becoming slightly hysterical again.

“1917, Brooklyn New York to be exact. I grew up in the past,” James grumbled, sitting back down on the floor. “And I still don’t fucking get this stupid century.”

A long silence filled the manor as the SHIELD agent and the Charmed Ones watched each other.

“Trouble Man soundtrack, fluffernutters and Star Wars. Everything you need to know about the future,” Sam said finally, taking a decisive sip of his tea. “But only 4, 5 and 6, the rest of the movies sucked.”

James laughed, the tension falling from his shoulders. “I don't see how a set of movies produced in the 80s is going to help me understand the 2010s.”

“That is because you haven't seen them yet!” Sam said, setting down his cup and waving for James to stand. “Come on, we're grabbing my un-remastered DVD set and raiding a convenience store.”

“You're strange,” James said, still grinning as he was pushed by his siblings and pulled by Sam off the floor and toward the front doors. 

“At least I don’t say dandy.”

“What's wrong with dandy?”

“Nothing… it's dandy! People might start assuming you’re gay though.”

“Yeah well maybe, no, no wait. Wanda!” James stuck his head back into the living room, one arm in his jacket. “Wanda, what was it?”

“Bitch I might be,” Wanda said helpfully.

“Bitch I might be!” James said, turning back around and following a laughing Sam out the door.

The twins grinned at each other as they listened to the fading sounds of their brother’s and friend’s banter. “James made a friend!”


	6. Wrestling with Agents

“James, answer your phone,” Pietro drawled, dragging his hands down his face with a loud, irritated, groan.

James pulled his head out of the large tome of Irish potions he had been painstakingly translating into English and glared at the offending electronic device. The screen was dark, so he turned to give his little brother a raised eyebrow.

It was a slow afternoon at the spice shop and Pietro was slumped over the counter with a severe case of boredom, but that wasn't why he was currently complaining. The silver haired witch raised his own phone and glared back at his older brother. “Sam is texting me to get you to pick up your phone.”

James wrinkled his nose, finished the potion he was on and shut the book. “I don't like the cellular phones, they have a bad aura.”

“You just do not like them because a wrong number sent you a dick pic,” Wanda corrected as she walked out of the backroom and picked up James’s phone. 

“If I wanted to see dick, I would look down,” James said stiffly, then he frowned as his sister’s face soured. “Is it actually a dick?”

“Sam wants help with an assignment,” she said, setting the phone down and glancing at Pietro, “and he is bringing Rumlow.”

“So, the human personification of a dick pic,” Pietro grumbled, slouching even farther over the counter.

“They can't be worse than cellular phones,” James said, shaking his head at his judgmental siblings. “And I thought you said SHIELD had a bunch of fancy screening and training for its agents.”

“Why do you think he is always in retraining?” Wanda muttered as the front door chimed.

Sam looked like he was five minutes away from either getting a migraine or decking someone as he walked into the spice shop. He was shoved to one side a moment later as his partner strutted into the shop.

Rumlow was a man with broad shoulders, short hair, stubble and a smug smile. His muddy brown eyes swept the room with an air of contempt before landing on James. His grin grew even more smug as he dragged his eyes the length of James’s body, spending several seconds near his crotch and never quite meeting the witch’s eyes.

James stood and faced his siblings, politely ignoring Rumlow staring at his ass and speaking very calmly. “I wish to apologize to cellular phones.”

Wanda and Pietro nodded understandingly and allowed themselves to be herded into the back room. James wasn't about to let his younger siblings be ogled in such a way. He then moved to hide the lower half of his body behind the counter and put on his customer service smile. “Can I get you anything?”

“I was hoping you could give me some insight,” Sam said, in a deeply regretful voice, as he followed James to the counter and set a broken piece of metal in an evidence bag on it.

James absently fiddled with the knobs of the espresso machine and eyed the object. He had been practicing his gifts, well his witch’s gifts, but still wasn't able to call premonitions on command yet. Wanda said that he would be able to eventually, but, honestly, he had been avoiding it. “What is it?” he asked, reluctant to pick the bag up and see more death.

“I don't know,” Sam said with a sigh, “we’re chasing a serial killer with five victims to their name and no leads. I found that in a fire pit at the last crime scene, but the lab can't come up with any answers. I’m grasping at straws here.”

“Can you describe the murders?” James asked, opening the bag with Sam’s permission and taking the metal object out. He turned it over in his hands and carefully thumbed at its edges. It was a flat half circle with several smooth edges that looked intentional, several ragged edges from where it was broken off a large piece and one shot edge that looked like it had been honed. It seemed very familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

Sam hesitated, licking his lips and staring pointedly at the countertop before speaking. “Ritualistic?”

“Ah,” James said, realizing why it looked familiar and becoming even more reluctant to be touching it. Pinching it between the fingers of his right hand and bracing his left against the counter, James closed his eyes and concentrated. After several moments he opened his eyes and shook his head. “It's part of a highly decorative athame but that's all I can tell you, sorry,” he said, quickly setting the knife down and slipping his hands into his back pockets.

A snort to his right made James jump. Rumlow had hopped up onto the counter while his eyes were closed and was now far too close for comfort. 

“Told you, completely fucking useless. At least the view is nice. Made the trip not a complete waste,” Rumlow said with a grin, slapping James’s ass before he had a chance to edge out of the way.

James inhaled sharply, the sting of the slap vanished as he was yanked away by a premonition. He was in a dark room lit by a circle of candles on an altar where a figure with a sack over its head and a blood-stained sheet over its body, was tied down. The shadows of the candles against the wall changed and shifted into human shapes with red glowing eyes. A hooded man stepped up to the altar and raised a dagger over his head. The blade shimmered in the candlelight, but it was the handle that caught James’s attention. Intricately carved out of a flat circle of steel was the image of a skull and six curling tentacles. The man’s fingers were thrust through the eyes of the skull and he tightened his grip and brought the knife stabbing down.

James let out a breath as he came back to the spice shop in time to see Sam shoving Rumlow toward the door and yelling at him.

Sam pushed his partner out the door and glanced back to mouth ‘I’m so sorry’ to James before closing the door behind him.

“Cellular phone indeed,” Pietro growled, glaring at the front door as he and Wanda came out of the back room.

Wanda looked just as pissed as her brother, but her frown deepened as she got a good look at James. “You did get a premonition.”

“Yeah,” James said haltingly, flexing his right hand that had gotten smacked along with his ass. “It's Hydra.”

-

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Thaddeus Ross snapped for the fourth time. The Halliwell’s whitelighter had been standing with his nose in the air and arms crossed since James had summoned him nearly thirty minutes ago.

James glared back at the whitelighter, finger still pressed to the section in one of his father’s old books that very clearly described the style of sacrificial altar he had seen in his premonition. “It's! Hydra!” he all but yelled at the stubborn whitelighter. 

“Every last Hydra demon was hunted down and destroyed in the years following World War II, they are extinct,” Ross said in the tones of someone having to explain something very simple to someone very dense. “I understand that you are trying to be helpful in the fight against evil, but you are wrong.”

“My premonition-”

“Perhaps your demonic powers are clouding for visions of the future,” Ross said, interrupting James and nodding his head decisively. “Yes, that must be it. I will advise the council.”

Ross disappeared in a swirl of white orbs.

James slammed the book shut and hurled it at where Ross’s head had been. He had tried to do the right thing and apologized numerous times for blasting Ross with lightning, but the pompous bastard still treated him like an ignorant child playing with a loaded gun.

Pietro and Wanda had firmly stood by their telling Ross to fuck off and not to come back after the whole ‘flat out refusing to heal James who was bleeding profusely on the floor’ incident and had refused to have any part in summoning Ross today.

But James had insisted, if Hydra demons were in San Francisco then the Elders needed to be told so they could warn the other witches in the area.

“I really do not want to say I told you so,” Wanda murmured from the attic door as James took several deep breaths to keep himself from sending bolts of lightning through the roof of the manor.

“I don't care if that…. Cellular phone! doesn't believe me. I know I’m right, it's Hydra!” James insisted, retrieving the book he had thrown and opening it again. He turned, wild eyed to his sister, who held up her hands.

Wanda gently closed the book in her brother's hands. “We believe you,” she murmured, setting the book on a table. “But now we must figure out how to stop them. What did your father tell you of the Hydra?”

James sighed and let himself be pushed down into a chair. “He said that the cult of Hydra were unlike any other demons he had dealt with, they had huge ambitions and the power to achieve them, that joining them was the smart thing to do. They were big power Down There back in the 30s and 40s. I was really young when he took me to watch one of their ascension ceremonies. I remember it was for a human that caught their attention, I don't know how but it probably had something to do with killing or being racist. They brought him a sacrifice for… Something, I can't remember what, he killed the person and used the bloody knife to cut the Hydra’s symbol into his arm. I think he got branded too but I'm not sure, then his eyes started glowing red and he was given demonic powers.”

“Gross,” Pietro said, blinking in just in time to hear the lovely description of bloody arm carving. He flopped down onto the couch and sighed loudly.

“Did you follow him?” James asked.

Pietro nodded and pulled out a notepad and started flipping through the pages. “3:30: left Sam saying he was going to check a lead. 4:02: bar, 445: another bar, 520: strip club, 553: that place near the docks where the hookers hang out, 615: paid the hooker and went to, you guessed it, another strip club. Bar, drug dealer, liquor store, fireworks dealer that I did not know existed and will be returning too,” Pietro paused for breath and a glare from Wanda, “two pawn shops, bar, then finally crashed in his extremely swank apartment.”

“So, nothing that ties him to the murders,” Wanda summed up with a shake of her head, “maybe he is the sacrifice?”

James gnawed on his lower lip. “Maybe, either way we have to keep following him.”

Pietro gave a sleepy nod and stood up.

“No,” James said, standing as well and pressing his little brother back down. “My turn, you two get some rest.”

James made sure both his siblings were tucked into bed before kissing Alpine, grabbing his jacket, slipping out the front doors and running straight into Sam. Both men stared at each other for a moment.

“You did get a premonition!” Sam finally hissed, pointing accusingly at his friend.

“Oh good, you can drive me. I’ll explain on the way.“ James whispered, hopping down the front steps and past Sam who quickly followed him. They both climbed into the agent’s car and after a quick drive across down they found themselves staring up at Rumlow’s new apartment.

Sam pointed out his partner’s window then leaned back with a shake of his head. “Brock is a jackass but murder? I’m having trouble making that leap.”

“He might be the victim,” James murmured, “I couldn't tell who was who so we’ve been trying to, as you fuzzies say, get evidence.”

“...Did you just call me a fuzzy?” 

“Shh!” James hissed, waving one hand as the light in Rumlow’s window went out. A few moments later he exited the building with a backpack and walked quickly down the street away from them.

“Alright fuzzy, you search his apartment for evidence and I'll follow the goon,” Sam whispered, slipping out of his car and leaving to follow Rumlow from a safe distance before James could argue.

With a frustrated little sigh, James quickly crossed the road, slipped past the doorman and made it to Rumlow’s front door without running into any other tenants. Grabbing the door handle the witch pressed his other palm to the door and whispered. “Door unlock, no magic block,” and rewarded with a faint click. 

Slipping inside, he quietly closed the door behind him and after making sure that the apartment really was empty, James started to snoop. He found several letters marked current resident on the kitchen counter, some take out boxes and clothing tags in the trash, and some soap and bleach in the kitchen sink. There was very little furniture in the apartment and the contents of the shopping spree that Pietro had witnessed was spilled across the bed. Kicking an empty whiskey bottle, James frowned at the apartment and then jumped in shock. Silently cursing, the witch dug his vibrating phone out of his jacket pocket and clumsily swiped to take Sam’s call.

“Find anything?” the agent murmured across the line, panting slightly.

“Not really, where has Rumlow run off to?” James grumbled, absently opening and closing dresser drawers before finding one crammed with sex toys that caused him to violently recoil.

“He stopped to chat with some shady looking mother fuckers on Bleaker street and is heading toward the warehouse district. Wish he would slow down a little,” Sam grumbled.

James hummed distractedly as he dug around under the bed. His hand landed on the canvas of a duffle back and he dragged it out.

“This is near where we found the first body,” Sam continued then cursed. “He went inside. Give me something Halliwell, am I arresting or rescuing?”

James stared down at the bag full of occult books, jars of blood, Hydra head daggers and lifted a list of six names, five of which were crossed out. “Do not go in there.”

“Why? What did you- Shit! Those shady guys just pulled up an- They have a girl, I'm going in!”

“No, Sam! Don’t!” James shouted but got no response and jerked the phone away from his ear to see that the call had ended. 

There was no time, the ascension ceremony was happening now. Sending an emergency text to his siblings, James shoved his phone away and closed his eyes. Accessing his demonic powers was dangerous, he had to take only just enough or risk being overcome by his evil side. Clenching his hands, James pictured the warehouses, reached for his power and with a shudder, shimmered.

He gasped as the cold air hit him and, despite the circumstances, smiled at his success. James glanced around but couldn't see any sign of Sam or the aforementioned vehicle. He ran between the warehouses, fears growing again, when something crunched beneath his feet. Stumbling, he looked down and saw Sam’s phone in pieces. He cursed and looked wildly around at the warehouses, Rumlow could be in any one of them. How was he supposed to find him!?

A thought rose unbidden in James’s head, something he didn't so much know and felt. Swallowing hard, the witch listened to his demonic side and sniffed the air. Impossibly, he could smell it, brimstone. The scent of demons came faintly from the building on his left. Running, James pushed down the feeling of smugness that bubbled in the back of his mind. 

He followed that scent through the dimly lit corridors of the warehouse and into the huge storage area when he caught a new scent, blood. He found the still form of Sam a moment later, blood spilling from a bullet hole in his side, but he was still breathing.

Fighting to keep himself from panicking, James glanced up and whispered as loud as he dared. “Ross! Ross, damn it, get down here!”

A shimmer of white orbs appeared a moment later and Ross appeared in the warehouse, a look of great distaste on his face. “What now? Is that a human?”

“Heal him!” James hissed, grabbing the whitelighter and pulling him down to Sam's side. Shoving Ross’s hands against the wound, James got to his feet and sniffed the air again trying to regain the trail.

“Isn't this the human you revealed magic too?” Ross asked in a disgruntled tone.

James whipped around and snarled at the whitelighter, his eyes flashing a ghostly blue. “Just do it!”

Turning away as the whitelighter hurriedly started healing the SHIELD agent, James ran off. Wrenching the door on the far side of the room open, he was shown the same pitch blackness of his premonition which spurred James to run faster than ever. He rounded the corner and saw the room, the candles, and the man, now easily recognizable as Rumlow, raising his knife. 

James shouted and Rumlow glanced up, a look of angry fear flashing across his face as he brought his knife stabbing down.

‘You won't make it’ whispered the voice in James’s head. And that wasn't acceptable. Flinging out his left hand, James let a bolt of lighting flash from his palm to strike Rumlow in the chest.

Rumlow crashed against the wall and slumped down, unconscious. The six shadowy figures narrowed their red glowing eyes as the intruder strutted into their circle.

His eyes glowed blue and rage twisted his features. Ice spreading to encase his left arm, the demon witch glared back at them. “This is my city,” James spat at the figures, throwing out his left arm again and sending lightning into the building’s wiring and turning on all the lights.

The shadowy figures vanished as the room flooded with light and the anger left James in a rush. He staggered and caught himself on the edge of the altar and swallowed hard. He had been taken over again, the darkness inside him had taken control.

A groan from Rumlow and a whimper from whoever was under the sacrificial sheet, pulled James back to the current problems he faced. He gave Rumlow a kick to the head to keep the bastard down and reached for the sheet.

A door on the other side of the room opened with a bang and Sam burst in, his stun gun drawn. James threw his hands in the air out of instinct and they stared at each other for a moment before Sam lowered his gun. 

There was a cut over the agent’s eye and his lip was busted but he seemed to have fully recovered from the bullet wound. “What the fuck happened?”

“Can we talk about that later?” James muttered out of the side of his mouth, jerking his head toward the figure moving under the sheet.

Sam quickly nodded and walked forward to cuff Rumlow and reached for the sheet.

A pop echoed around the room and Wanda and Pietro, wearing pajamas and welding athames, appeared in the room with a war cry.

James’s hands shot into the air again and Sam grabbed his gun. They all stared at each other for a moment before relaxing.

“Get out of here, I already called SHIELD.” Sam hissed at the Halliwells as the figure under the sheet started moving more violently and making louder noises.

James took Pietro’s hand and all three blinked back to the manor.

After telling his siblings that the danger was over, James insisted that they all get some sleep and that he would explain in the morning. But sleep did not come easy to the witch as he tossed and turned. Why had his demonic side helped him? Why didn't it join with the Hydra?

Why had it let him go?

But there was no response from his other side. Eventually Alpine came into his room, laying down on his chest to keep him from moving and finally exhaustion won out, dragging James into a dreamless sleep.

-

James slept late the next morning and was finally awoken by Wanda waving a mug of coffee under his nose.

She smiled as he took a cautious sip and then, finding that it was the perfect temperature, threw back half the mug. Stroking Alpine, Wanda waiting for a minute to let the coffee work its magic before speaking gently. “Sam is here and Pietro made pancakes.”

James frowned, considering the pro of pancakes to the con of having to talk about what had happened the night before. Pancakes won and he rolled out of bed. He let himself be herded downstairs but not before wrapping up in a thick wool blanket that he had brought from the 40s. Neither of his siblings understood why he loved it so much; it was scratchy as hell, but it was his favorite.

Sam was indeed sitting at the dining room table and shoving pancakes into his mouth at an alarming rate. He tried to smile as James stubbled into the room, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Before the agent could speak, Pietro came bustling out of the kitchen wearing a checkered apron and holding a huge plate of pancakes. The silver haired man had everyone seated and eating pancakes in the twinkling of an eye and then got them all laughing and chatting a minute later. When it was time to tell what had happened in the warehouse the tension in the air was gone and it was easy to talk.

James told them what happened but when he got to blasting Rumlow he found himself unable to tell his family that he had lost control. Instead he told them he tackled the man and used a spell to send a power surge through the building. 

Sam made no comment on James’s story but after a moment started explaining what had happened to him. “After I hung up, I tried to stop those guys from taking the girl inside, she was drugged with something, but they got the better of me and shot me in the side. They said something about ‘even more fun after’ and dragged me inside. Next thing I knew I was waking up to this really grumpy looking guy standing over me and then disappearing in white light,” Sam said, his eyes getting a faraway look.

“You called Ross?” Wanda asked her older brother, she wasn't sure if she was proud or disgusted.

“Shimmering into hospitals is frowned upon, and I wasn't sure I could do it fast enough to stop Rumlow in time.” James said defensively “Ross may be a dick but he's still on the side of good and he wouldn’t let an innocent die.”

Sam grinned at James’s praises then continued. “I was calling SHIELD on a landline when I heard an explosion and all the lights came on, I followed the noise and found you. After you guys left, they picked up Rumlow and took the girl to the hospital, she was pretty freaked out but she will live. But get this, she had one of those three swirly thingies tattooed on her arm!”

“The triple spiral? She might have been a witch then, or at least a witch practitioner,” Pietro said thoughtfully before smiling brightly. “That is definitely not great!”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “No, it isn't. But with all the evidence they found on Rumlow and in his apartment, he won't be hurting anyone ever again, which is great. We did pretty good, fuzzy.” he said, grinning at James

“Speaking of,” James said, ignoring his siblings mouthing the word ‘fuzzy’ to each other and the mounting guilt of keeping secrets, “it's a weekday, don't you have work?”

Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I've been put on leave. Fury is pissed that this happened and is completely revamping the agent evaluations. They don't suspect me, but until I pass and get a new partner, I’m on mandatory vacation.”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully and started picking up the dishes. “Perhaps this would be a good chance to teach Sam a few things to protect him from evil.”

Sam’s eyes got huge as he stared at them, the Halliwells laughing at his face journey. “Are you serious? You're not serious… Are you? You wouldn't play me like that right? I get to learn magic?!”


	7. The Fires of Up There

James tapped the end of his pen on the counter and glared at the half-written spell he had been working on all morning. Ever since losing control in the warehouse, he had been trying spell after spell to protect himself and his family from the evil lurking within him. But none of them had worked and he was running out of lame excuses to tell his siblings and Sam to explain what he was doing.

“I used to be so good at this,” he muttered, putting the pen down and rubbing his eyes. 

‘You're avoiding the answer,’ his other half whispered

Glaring at the far wall, James thought bitterly back. ‘Is this going to be a thing now? Talking to myself like a crazy person?’

There was no answer and the witch’s expression soured. He had a few more hours before Wanda came home from the shop and Pietro returned from magic school, so James gathered up his pen and paper and turned to go back to the attic and try and get some real work done. The tell-tale chime of orbs made him pause at the bottom of the steps and go investigate.

Thaddeus Ross smiled at him from the middle of the living room. “The Council of Elders has made its decision.”

“About time, I gave them proof of Hydra’s return a week ago…” James paused, something wasn't right. Ross never smiled, especially not when someone was proving him wrong.

‘Run!’ hissed his other half.

Ignoring the tight fear in the back of his mind, James took a cautious step forward. “What exactly has the council decided?”

Ross’s smile widened into what he thought would look kindly and gentle. “The Charmed Ones are destined to be the greatest force of good the world has ever seen. We cannot allow that good to be corrupted by demonic forces.”

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of James’s stomach. “I know I’m not your guys’ first choice but it's not like you can change who Wanda and Pietro are related to.”

“No, we can’t,” Ross said, walking forward as James backed up, “which is why the council has decided that you will be cleansed.”

‘Run!!’ James’s other half screamed and this time he listened, leaping for the front doors. As he touched the knob a spell slammed into his back and the world went dark.

-

“I'm bored in the house and I'm in the house bored,” Sam sang to himself as he lay upside down on the couch. The SHIELD agent wasn't taking forced vacation well. He had spent the last week and a half bumming around the Halliwell manor, learning minor potion making and the uses of different protective charms the witches had given him. He had also tried to figure out why James was so on edge. But after asking one too many questions and getting snapped at, Sam decided it was time to give them all a little space. But good grief was the normal world boring after being introduced into the world of magic.

Fortunately for the bored agent, Wanda's ringtone, Witchy Woman, started playing from his phone. Rolling over a little too enthusiastically, Sam knocked over a lamp and snatched up his phone. “Hey Wanda whats-”

“Is James with you?” Wanda asked, cutting Sam off.

Instantly on edge at her nervous tone, Sam frowned. “No, he said he was going to stay home and work on spells today. Why?”

“Because he is not in the house and I cannot connect to his phone. I thought he might have gone with Pietro to magic school, since phones do not work there, but he has not seen James either!” Wanda was getting more and more hysterical.

“Ok, take a breath, we’ll find him. Have you tried scrying yet?”

Wanda took her breath and let it out slowly. “No, it does not always work on James.”

Sam grabbed his wallet and keys and headed for the door. “Try, I’ll get eyes on the house and see if anything went down.”

‘So much for bored,’ the agent thought as he hung up and headed downtown.

It was disturbingly easy to slip into the San Francisco SHIELD office unnoticed, until Sam realized that he was still wearing the unseen amulet he had picked up at the Warren’s. It was falcon shaped, and falcons are cool. 

Rolling his eyes at himself, Sam slipped into the small office he had shared with Rumlow. Two desks were pushed together in the center of the room and ringed in by filing cabinets. One was uncharacteristically clean after being cleared out for SHIELD’s investigation into its ex-owner while the other was still piled high with files and old coffee cups.

Leaving the lights off, the agent pushed his mess to one side, logged into his work computer and began pulling up the traffic camera footage around the manor. There was one specific camera with which you could easily see the front doors of the manor, which had come in handy when Sam had been investigating the strange happenings around Wanda and Pietro when he had first met them. He really needed to remember to tell them to do something about it before a SHIELD intern stumbled across proof of magic. 

Starting with when Wanda left the house, Sam quickly scanned through the footage until he found the point when Wanda returned.

James hadn't left the house then, at least not by mortal means. But the witch had been getting better at shimmering so there wasn't cause for alarm, yet. 

Slowing down, Sam went through the footage again and nearly missed it for the second time. A white flash lighting up the curtains of the front doors. Sam marked the spot and then went through the rest of the film. Finding nothing else, he called Wanda.

“Did you find him?” she asked as soon as she picked up, her voice echoing as she put Sam on speaker phone.

“No, he didn't walk out but there was something odd. Some kind of white light in the front hall but it was only there for a moment,” Sam murmured, turning off his computer screen quickly as someone walked by the office.

“A white light? Well that could have been a whitelighter,” Pietro’s voice chimed in. “But why would they take James? They do not like him very much.”

“That might be why,” Sam muttered as he slipped out of his office. “But it's a magic problem so I am going to get the heck out of here before I get spotted-”

“Wilson!” 

Sam flinched and glanced over his shoulder to see Director Fury bearing down on him. “-by my boss, gotta go!”

-

“Sam?” Wanda called but the agent had hung up. “Great, we got Sam in trouble and still do not know where James is!”

Pietro stopped spinning the scrying crystal and sighed, “Ross!” he shouted.

Nothing happened.

Pietro called again then Wanda tried but their whitelighter did not appear.

“I do not like this,” Wanda whispered, twisting her hair nervously.

Pietro stared at the ceiling, gnawing on his lower lip then nodded and stood up sharply. He walked over to a large mirror hanging on one wall of the attic and pulled the floral sheet covering it off. “I am calling father,” he said, knocking on the surface of the mirror.

The mirror turned milky white then cleared a moment later to show the face of Erik Lehnsherr. His brow was crumpled with worry and when he saw the faces of his children his frown deepened. “You couldn't find him,” he said, the faint German lilt of his voice more noticeable in his worry.

“A whitelighter might have come to the house but Ross is not answering us,” Pietro explained as Wanda took up the scrying crystal.

Erik’s eyes flickered away for a moment then he nodded. “I might know someone who can help. Stay strong, we will find James.”

-

Anthony Howard Stark stared at the headmasters of magic school as if they had lost their goddamn minds. “Just to be clear, you want me to sneak into Up There, spy on my fellow whitelighters and then report to your children?”

Erik nodded.

“No!” Tony yelled, “I’ve only had this job for like, three years now, and I'm not going to risk them blasting my ass back to dead. I’m not leaving my daughter to grow up without her daddy again! I’m sure if the Elders took James it was for his own good and that he will be returned safe and sound soon!”

“Tony,” Charles Xavier said after taking a firm hold of Erik’s shoulder so his husband couldn’t do anything stupid, like attacking the whitelighter. “I understand your concerns but-”

“But you would do well to remember who convinced the Elders to allow you to raise your daughter after you ascended!” Erik snapped, “you owe us!”

Tony hesitated, then sighed. “Fine, but when I get proof that nothing hinky is going on, and that you all are way too paranoid, I get to say I told you so!”

Not waiting for a reply, Tony orbed out of magic school and Up There. He purposely aimed for a little used antechamber but when he peaked out into the main hall he found it empty. Normally, whitelighters and Elders alike would be bustling around, working to keep the world from falling to evil. Where the heck was everyone?

Deciding that it was better to be safe than dead for a second time, Tony sneaked down the grand hall, listening to the door that lined it and led to other areas of Up There. But he still couldn't find anyone. He was starting to get concerned when he finally heard something. Voices coming from the Reflection Chamber. 

It was a rarely used room designed to combine and amplify the Elders’ powers for great purposes. Since they preferred to watch and advise rather than get directly involved, the chamber had been used to store objects of historical significance for the last few hundred years.

Objects that had been shoved out into the main hall and that Tony was carefully picking his way around. He didn't know what would happen if he touched any of them, but he had seen Indiana Jones and wasn't going to risk getting his face melted. Finally, he made it to the door and eased it open a fraction to peer inside.

-

James awoke with a gasp, shook off the traces of the stunning spell and looked wildly around. He was in a huge white room whose walls seemed to either go on forever or were made of pure light. Surrounding him were scores of people in white robes, Elders. He spotted the smiling face of Ross off to his left but didn't recognize any of the others. As he tried to stand, James found that he was chained in a kneeling position on the floor with silvery white manacles. He tugs at them, then hisses as they dug painfully into his wrists, swirls of darkness seemed to seep from his skin into the bindings.

“Oh, that's not going to work, sweetie,” a woman with short black hair and a huge smile said, bending over to pat the top of James’s head. “Those will only come off when the very last traces of evil in you have been cleansed.”

“You can't do this.” James said, panic setting in as the Elders smiled condescendingly at each other and tutted over him. “You can't just wish away my demon half!”

“Don't worry,” an old man near the front said with another reassuring smile, “this will all be over soon and you will be free. You won't even feel a thing.”

James tried to shout but the woman next to him pushed a guard into his mouth, silencing him. Before he had a chance to spit the damn thing out and yell at the idiotic Elders, the old man stepped forward and raised his arms.

“Let the cleansing commence!” he shouted and summoned up orbs of white energy around his hands. The other Elders followed his example and the white energy shot into a crystal hanging directly above James. The energy multiplied and refracted back on itself until it was too bright to look at and then slammed down onto the young witch.

James screamed as unimaginable pain came crashing down on him, as if every cell in his body was being ripped in half. Fire and ice and lightning burned him from the inside out and the outside in. He couldn't think, he couldn't remember, all he knew was the pain.

Then the magic vanished and James gasped, slumping forward. He didn't even feel the chains digging into his skin and echoes of that terrible pain rippled and pulsed through him. 

But he could feel the fear. Fear from himself. Fear from his other half. 

“Pay no heed to the screams,” one of the Elders called over a murmur of concern. “It is just the demon trying to stop us from freeing him.”

‘Let me out! Let me stop them!’ James’s other half screamed in his head.

James shook his head, ‘I can't, you're evil.’

‘I’m you!’ whispered the voice. But before James could respond, the pain came again, ripping him away.

-

Tony recoiled violently as James’s screams echoed and reverberated through the entirety of Up There. Scrambling away, he hid behind a white marble pillar and covered his ears, trying to keep the sound out. A moment later silence fell and he breathed a sigh of relief. The sigh got stuck in his throat at what he heard next.

“Not yet, one more time,” Elder Regina said, the casualness of her voice chilling Tony to his very core.

The scream ripped through the hall a moment later and Tony orbed away from it in a panic. He landed on top of the golden gate bridge and braced himself on the red painted metal, taking several gasping breaths to keep himself from being sick on the spot.

His head was spinning as he tried to make sense of it all. The Elders would never hurt an innocent, especially not a Charmed One. They were the greatest force for good the world had ever seen!

But James was half demon. 

Tony frowned at that thought. Half demon, just like the traitorous monster that had killed his parents. Once a demon, always a demon, that's what witches always said. Tony might not be a witch anymore, but demons were still demons. And if demons took control of the Charmed Ones, well it didn't bear thinking about. The Elders were right about that.

Queasiness suddenly gone with this clarifying realization, Tony straightened up and orbed to the Halliwell manor. He was aiming for the living room but ended up in a circle of white and black crystals in the attic. Tony frowned at the Halliwell twins who looked half angry half panicked.

“Where is James!” they both shouted, moving from behind the book of shadows to stand in front of the whitelighter caught in their trap.

“I do your father a favor and this is how you treat me?” Tony huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

Both witches give him a second look and their anger faded slightly. “Then you found him? Where is he? Why did you not bring him back with you?” Wanda demanded, clenching her hands.

Tony hesitated, guilt ebbing back into his heart at seeing how worried the half demon’s siblings were. No, the evil inside the third Halliwell obviously tricked them, blinding them from seeing that the greater good must be protected. “He is with the Elders.”

There was a moment of silence before Pietro got impatient and yelled at the whitelighter. “And?!”

“He’ll be fine.” Tony said quickly, trying to take a step back and finding his feet stuck to the floor by the crystal trap.

“Will be?!” Wanda shrieked, “what do you mean will be? Is he not fine now?! What are you not telling us!?”

The attic door flew open and Sam rushed into the room, “I heard shouting! Who the heck is that?”

“He found James but will not tell us what is going on!” Wanda spat, her tempter getting out of control.

Licking his lips as two thirds of the greatest magical force currently living, grew increasingly agitated at him, Tony chose his next words very carefully. “To protect the Charmed Ones from evil’s influence, the Elders have decided that James’s demonic half needed to be addressed.”

“Addressed! How!” Pietro begged as his sister began to glow red.

Suddenly angry at the whole dumb situation, Tony shouted back. “Removed ok! Demons are evil and letting one infect the Charmed Ones would be the end of all of us! The Greater Good must be protected and his demon half destroyed!”

Wanda and Pietro were shocked into silence by the whitelighter’s sudden outburst, but Sam had no problems voicing his outrage. “You're going to cut him in half?!”

Snorting at the mortal’s ignorance, Tony folded his arms and sneered at Sam. “They are removing the demon inside of him, he will be cured of dark magic soon.”

“Are you kidding me!?” Sam asked in disbelieving horror. “You fucking idiot! He won't survive having half of him ripped away!”

The queasiness returned to Tony in a rush but he shoved it back angrily aside and plunged onward, refusing to admit he was wrong. “Well, it's better to die in the service of good than to become a tool for evil! The demon in him will never be able to hurt anyone this way!”

Panic curling tightly around his throat and pounding through his heart, Pietro threw up his hands and froze time inside the whitelighter trap. He couldn't bear to hear anymore.

Tony stopped moving, head held high with a self-righteous scowl plastered across his face.

“If these are your allies, I think it's time to find new friends,” Sam whispered, shocked by the whitelighter’s words.

“I think you are right,” Pietro whispered, looking at the whitelighter with something akin to fear on his face before shaking his head and looking at his sister. “Take his powers, we will get James back ourselves.”

Wanda nodded, collecting herself and calming her rage. Thinking quickly, the redheaded witch spoke her spell. “What's yours is mine, What's yours is mine, let your power cross the line, I offer up naught to share, Bring me his powers through the air.”

“Did it work?” Sam asked a moment later as nothing seemed to have happened.

Wanda frowned and closed her eyes. Then vanished in a swirling of white orbs and reappeared a few feet away with a gasp. She nodded then held out her hand for her twin to take. Giving Sam a nod, they both vanished.

Sam slowly turned around and gave the now powerless whitelighter, a long look as time restarted and Tony glanced wildly around. “Let's have a chat, shall we?” Sam said in a tone that indicated that this was not a question as Tony came to the sobering realization of what had happened while he was frozen. “Just how much of All That was for the Greater Good and how much was you not wanting to admit that You. Were. Wrong. How much was you finally having someone to blame?”

-

James slumped forward against his bindings. He was too far gone to understand the blur of noise from the white mass around him that the painful light came from. He didn't understand why they were hurting him, he couldn't remember what he had done to deserve it. He couldn't remember anything before the painful light, couldn't remember why he was fighting to stay alive, wouldn't it be easier just to die?

As the light came down on him again, he stopped fighting and felt himself slip away. The pain was still there but was fading away as he fell further and further into darkness. He didn't feel himself land but when he opened his eyes he found himself standing.

The faint sounds of a city echoed out from the darkness and moments of shadowy light reflected off half-forgotten objects that moved and shifted around him.

“Why are you here?” murmured a voice from out of the dark, drawing James’s eyes to a faint outline to his left.

“I don't remember,” James whispered, looking away again as the faint sounds of a carnival bounced around him.

The outline moved and a figure walked up to him. “I remember,” it murmured, a faint light growing around it.

James frowned at the figure. It was a young man with glowing blue eyes, long dark hair and ice encasing his left arm. “Who are you?”

The demon frowned at James. “I am you.”

James winced as a loud burst of sound echoed around them, voices shouting, metal clanging, a fight in the streets. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head, “I’ll never be you, I'll never be a demon.”

“Then you are nothing,” the demon said, disappearing back into the darkness.

-

The doors of the Reflection Chamber crashed open as Wanda and Pietro came running in, a wave of red magic rushing out from around them. Elder after Elder were hurled to the side as the enraged witches fought through the crowd, following the screaming of their older brother.

Breaking through the ring of Elders, they rushed to James's side as the white light pouring down on him vanished and he fell forward against the silver and black chains that held him to the ground. 

Pietro fell to his knees and caught his brother, calling his name and cradling his lolling head.

“What have you done!” Wanda shouted, standing guard over her brothers and ready to attack any Elder foolish enough to try anything.

Several of the Elders scoffed and rolled their eyes. “He's fine, it's just the demon trying to trick us.”

They were interrupted by the clatter of the mouth guard falling from James’s lips followed by a splattering of bright red blood against the stark white floor as he coughed weakly.

“But that's not-” “It can't be-” “It's just the demon!”

Wanda gritted her teeth as her magic rose up around them, thickening and lashing as her rage fed it.

-

“I'm not nothing!” James shouted after the demon. He could hear the faint calls of his name from voices he could almost remember. They needed him, he needed to find them.

He tried to run but stumbled over the clutter that lay about in the darkness surrounding him and fell to his knees.

The demon reappeared, its ice covered hand held out to James. “Embrace the power or die.”

But James shook his head again, glaring up at the monster. “No, I am not evil. And I never will be!”

The demon looked surprised then it smiled. Its smile was not the twisted smirk that adorned the face of George Barnes. It was a bright, pleased smile, as if it had been told something it had wanted to hear for a long time. “I am not evil,” it said.

James blinked and found himself staring down at his human half, smiling a bright happy smile. “I am not evil.”

James blinked again and saw his demon half once again. “I am not evil,” he whispered.

“You’re an idiot for thinking you could be.”

They both turned to see Stevie, illuminated with a soft golden glow. He was smiling at them and shaking his head so a lock of blond hair fell into his dark blue eyes. He wore simple tan slacks and suspenders over a white undershirt and on his left shoulder was the red star. The mark left behind by the curse that James had uttered the night he left, to give health and strength to match the courage in his lover’s heart. 

“I am me,” James whispered, feeling ice crawl up his arm as he finally accepted himself.

-

Pietro gasped as James’s eyes snapped open.

With a roar, James surged to his feet, shattering the chains that held him. Ice encasing his left arm and eyes glowed bright blue, the demon witch hurled a bolt of lightning up into the magnification crystal, destroying it so completely that not a single shard was left to fall to the ground.

The Elders looked terrified, summoning their powers to protect them and shouted at the demonic figure. Elder Calahand stepped out of the pack, staring in shock and horror at the monster that had been unleashed. “What are you?”

“I am not possessed, I didn't make a deal with darkness, I have never done harm nor taken a life.” James spat at the Elders, ““I am the son of a demon and a witch. That doesn’t make me inherently evil and destroying me doesn't automatically make you good!!”

Wanda and Pietro moved to stand beside their brother, uniting their powers against the people who dared to hurt their family.

“We are the Charmed Ones,” James continued, holding his head high. “And we will stop any force that threatens us, whether it's demons, or angels.”

The Charmed Ones vanished from the room, orbing away from Up There and leaving the Elders and whitelighters to ponder the enemies they had just made.

-

Sam watched James very closely as he took another sip of his healing potion. His friend was bundled up on the couch in the living room of the manor with several blankets and Alpine, looking pale and tired but more relaxed than the SHIELD agent had ever seen him. 

“Do it again,” Sam said.

James smiled slightly and transformed. The change was fast enough that if you blinked you would miss it and wonder where this creature with pale, faintly blue skin, glowing blue eyes and ice covering its left arm had come from.

But Sam kept his eyes wide open and whistled as he watched the white cat flail wildly and attempt to playfully sink it's teeth into ice protected fingers. “Man, that is cool, and it doesn't hurt or anything? Don't feel any weird impulses to eat my liver?”

Laughing and letting himself change back into his human form, James shook his head happily and pulled his hand out of Alpine's mouth. “No, I feel like myself.”

“Yourself should feel like a trip to the hospital after everything you have been through,” Wanda tutted loudly from the conservatory where she was setting seashells filled with herbs next to large pieces of quartz.

“I’ll be fine,” James reassured her, “my demonic half speeds up my healing as does this potion, I’ll be back to serving cappuccinos in the morning.”

“Not until we whitelighter proof the shop, you will not,” Pietro grumbled as he came back into the living room to collect more warding supplies from the coffee table.

“Yeah, speaking of. Are you going to give Stark back his powers at some point, Wanda?” Sam called, jerking a thumb at the powerless whitelighter sitting in an armchair and occasionally sneaking guilt laden glances at James.

Tony opened his mouth to quickly object, or apologies, or both, but was cut off by the redhead.

“Once we finish, I want him to test it before he leaves.”

“That's it?” Tony asked in a small voice, “you're not going to punish me? I did kind of try and fuck you over in revenge for something that wasn’t your fault…”

James resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead asked a very simple question. “Are you sorry?”

“Yes!” Tony said in a rush, stumbling his way into another rendition of a dozen different apologies that he had already said four times since the Halliwells had orbed back into the attic and James collapsed in a fit of bloody coughing.

“Then that's it,” James said, cutting the whitelighter off before he really got going. “Learn from your mistakes and I won't have to kick your ass.”

Tony stared at him for a moment then smiled. “You are definitely your mother’s son.”

Wanda smiled as James laughed at that, then waved Tony out of his chair and took him out front to return his powers and test the whitelighter proofing that she and Pietro had been working on. 

The spell worked perfectly as Tony orbed from one side of the front step to the other. The proofing worked just as well and after several attempts to orb and walk through the front door unsuccessfully, Tony was given a nod from Wanda and officially invited to cross the threshold and say goodbye to the others.

Offering another apology to James and getting a punch to the arm and a box of fudge from Pietro, Tony paused and murmured softly to Wanda. “If you ever need my help, I’ll do whatever I can.”

Wanda said nothing but nodded and closed the front door as the whitelighter orbed away.

“I like him,” Pietro said, reappearing in the living room with a fresh pot of mint tea.

“Man needs a daily dose of humility if you ask me,” Sam grumbled, refilling his tea cup and flopping onto the couch next to James to steal one of the witch’s biscuits, “that ego of his is going to get him into trouble again, mark my words.”

“Speaking of trouble,” Wanda murmured, exchanging guilty looks with her twin. “Did we get you into trouble with your boss?”

“Oh!” Sam said, grinning suddenly and shaking his head. “No, but before I forget again, there's a traffic camera that practically looks in your living room window, you should probably spell it before some bored nerd in the tech department sees you blinking or shaking or whatever. Director Fury just wanted to tell me that I passed my evaluations and I’ll be getting back to work in the morning!”

The Halliwells smiled and quickly congratulated their friend who smiled and nodded graciously.

“So, they finally found you a new partner?” James asked, stealing a piece of fudge from Sam in revenge for the missing cookie.

Sam grinned and put up a mock fight before surrendering the treat. “Yeah, he's flying in tonight.”

-

The lights of San Francisco glowed brightly in the dark of the cool night air. On top of the Golden Gate Bridge, another set of glowing light illuminated its red arches momentarily. The white light cleared leaving behind a tall, heavily muscled, man with shaggy blond hair and beard. His dark blue eyes glared down at the city like they had at so many other cities before it.

“You're no Brooklyn,” he muttered, “but you’ll do for now.”


	8. He is Baby, Man

Sam wasn't having a good week. Standing in a back alley as a torrential downpour cooled off the hottest week of the year and looking down at the corpse of a young man.

“Well?” he asked, raising his voice over the rain that pounded the hot asphalt.

SHIELD Agent Steve Rogers glanced up from the bloody body he was examining in a not so good part of the ‘great’ city of San Francisco. “Same as all the others.”

Sam sighed and watched his new partner get to his feet.

Rogers was easily over six feet tall and built like he spent his evening bench pressing Batman villains. His blond hair was long and he was always slicking back out of his eyes. He preferred Henleys with jeans and keeping his beard carefully groomed. His accent said New York but his dark blue eyes said secrets.

Or at least Sam thought they did. He still wasn't sure what to make of the man.

Steve tugged at his coat’s collar and followed Sam back to his car as their fellow agents moved in to secure and clean up the scene. “That makes six since Tuesday,” he said, pulling the car door shut. “I may be the new guy, but I’d say it's time to talk to that super-secret informant of yours.”

Sam’s frown deepened and he sent a silent curse to whichever of his coworkers had been running their mouth off. At least whoever it was had had the decency to make fun of Sam’s reluctance to share instead of the fact that it was practically an occult shop.

The agents sat for another minute listening to the rain on the car roof before Sam turned the engine on. “Fine,” he muttered, putting the car in gear and pulling away.

-

James was having a great week and a really shitty day. 

His phone dinged for the fifteenth time that morning and drove the witch just that much closer to clawing out his eyes. He didn't know why Pietro had decided to download a “Check the coffee grounds” reminder to his phone that went off at random intervals all damn day but it was driving him crazy and he couldn't figure out how to turn it off.

On the plus side he was fully recovered from the whole whitelighter bullshit and so far, no one from Up There had dared to show their faces around the Halliwells. Yes, it had been a good week.

Ding

That would end poorly when he murdered his younger brother.

“Sam is on his way over,” Wanda said, coming out of the backroom holding her own cellphone. She blinked at her older brother who looked like he was trying to shoot laser beams out of his eyes to fry the smart phone in its bright pink case that sat innocently on the counter of the spice shop. “With his new partner,” she continued, side stepping James and walking to the front door to flip the open sign to closed.

“Make it shut up,” James growled as another ding went off.

Rolling her eyes and straightening a sensing crystals display, Wanda showed her brother no mercy. “Perhaps this will teach you not to leave your phone laying around where meddlesome little brothers can steal it.”

James waggled his head, mockingly mouthing Wanda’s words, before her previous statement filtered through his brain and he finally looked up. “Sam is coming? Is that a good thing or a ‘run and hide before they get here’ thing?”

“I think it is a ‘I need help on an assignment’ thing,” the redheaded witch said, collecting several nearly empty jars from the tea and spice shelves and taking them into the backroom to be refilled. “Get the others for me, please.”

James went to collect the last of the nearly empty jars but didn't have much time to ponder Sam’s decision to finally introduce the Halliwells to his new partner as a few minutes later the agent was pushing the door to Warren’s open.

Offering his friend an absentminded smile over his shoulder, James gathered up the last two jars to be refilled and finally turned around. And nearly dropped the jars.

_ Stevie? _

The tall gorgeous man standing in the doorway looked nothing like the small blond punk from long ago New York. He was 6 foot 2 inches of pure muscle straining against the buttons of his gray collared shirt under the long dark blue peacoat that hung open and tucked to one side with the man’s hand in the pocket of his dark slacks that shifted slightly and betrayed the thick thighs they covered. His hair was a dark gold, slicked back but long enough to curl at the back of his neck and matched the thick beard that covered the man’s face but did nothing to hide the quirk of his lips as he smiled at James’s staring.

He looked nothing like Stevie, so why had James’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest?

“Morning!” James finally managed to force past his lips, blushing as he stammered on. “To both of you, of course. Ah, please! Come in! Yes, ah, come in.”

The tall blond’s smile grew and he stepped through the door and in two strides was carefully lifting jars out of James’s hands before he could drop them.

“You good?” Sam asked, letting the front door go and giving his friend a very smug smirk.

James blinked up at the blond Adonis now carrying all but one of his jars then turned his head and blinked at Sam. Then his phone dinged. Giving a howl of rage, James slammed the jar he was left with down and grabbed the closest mortar and pestle. “You want grinding? I’ll show you grinding!” he shouted, fully intended on bringing the heavy object down onto the cellular phone with extreme prejudice. Unfortunately, James found an impediment to taking out his frustration as Sam dodged in front of him and picked up the phone.

“No James! Down! No smash!” Sam said, holding the phone out of his friend’s reach.

“But we don't need any more coffee grounds!” James whined, but put the heavy hunk of marble down on the counter.

Sam gave him a confused look and glanced at what the phone had been beeping about. “Coffee? What… Whhhahayyyy do you have Grindr on your phone?”

Pushing the mortar and pestle aside, James snatched the phone back and poke miserably at it. “Pietro installed it last night and I can't make it shut up, we've only made coffee like four times today, I don't need this many reminders to grind it!”

The blond Adonis had followed Sam at a more sedate pace and gave a soft chuckle that sent chins of aching familiarity down James’s spine. Gently setting the jars he had taken from the witch, and the one he had abandoned, on the counter, he raised a hand to his mouth in attempts to politely cover the small smirk curving his lips.

Sam rubbed at his forehead. “James,” he said, regaining the witch’s attention. “Grindr isn't for coffee. It's for dicks.”

James dropped the phone. Keeping his hands stretched wide open, he turned his head and stared at Sam. “what part of ‘I’m not ready to date’ is not making its way through my brother’s skull?”

“To be fair,” the blond man said in a voice as smooth as whiskey on a cold night, “Grindr isn't really for dating.”

James slowly turned his wide eyed stare to this stranger who sounded like his Stevie, who smiled like his Stevie, who simultaneously looked nothing like his Stevie and exactly like how he could have been. This stranger who was licking his lips and nearly short circuited the witch’s brain. “Sam?” James said in a slightly strangled voice.

“I gotcha.” Sam said, trying not to laugh as he unlocked James’s phone and deleted the app. Crisis averted, the agent handed the phone back and nodded towards his partner. “James Halliwell, Agent Rogers.”

Rogers smiled and held out his left hand. “Steve.”

Ignoring the pounding of his heart at hearing the stranger’s name, Stevie’s name, James took the man’s hand and opened his mouth to shout, to beg, to demand to know who this man was. A doppelganger? A wicked magic trick? or….

But the words never came as a premonition dragged James away. This time it was bright, nearly blindingly so, snow and ice reflected the early morning sun’s rays into the window of a huge airplane flying over a half-frozen ocean. The agent was there, dressed in combat gear that had been painted red white and blue. He was saying something but James couldn't make it out over the wind coming through the broken glass of the airplane’s cockpit windows. He then shook his head and took hold of the controls, pushing the plane into a dive. As the ocean rushed up to meet the plane, the blond raised his hand to clutch at his left shoulder.

James inhaled sharply, letting go of Steve's hand and falling back against the counter. He shook his head to clear the coldness of the frozen ocean away and kept his eyes squeezed shut. 

“James?” he heard Sam cautiously ask.

Taking another breath, James opened his eyes. 

Steve Rogers’s face was twisted in concern and his hands hovered a few inches away from the witch’s arms, uncertain if touch would be allowed but unwilling to let the young man fall. Something little Stevie had always done after particular horrible fights between James and his father when he wasn't sure if his touch would hurt or heal his love’s cracked heart.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, James gave his friend’s new partner a critical look. “You don't plan on flying any planes, do you?”

Something passed across Steve's face, too fast for James to recognize, before he responded slowly. “No.”

“Then I'm sure it's fine.” James said in a high pitched, strained voice as he squeezed past both agents to the safety of the other side of the counter and fumbled with the espresso machine. “Coffee?” he asked, desperate for a moment to gather himself against the onslaught of this new blond walking into his life.

“Information would be better, if you're up for it.” Sam said, still keeping a worried eye on his friend as he reached into one of the large inside pockets of his raincoat and pulling out a file.

James kept his eyes fixed on the chrome tubes for a moment longer before glancing down at the photos Sam had spread on the counter. And immediately wished he hadn't. Death wasn't unfamiliar to the half demon but that didn't make seeing it any easier. 

A gentle, calloused hand tentatively came to rest on top of James’s and he glanced up.

Steve still looked worried, but he gave the witch a comforting smile, a smile of someone who believed in the person they were looking at. A smile Stevie used to wear.

Swallowing hard, James looked down, avoiding the questions he longed to scream. The mutilated bodies staring up at him were far easier to stomach than the possible answers he would get if he asked. If his lips parted and he spoke his lover's name. If this new Steve’s eyes would light up or stare blankly back. James wasn't sure which would hurt him more, but the poor souls in the photographs were dead and unable to give James the answers he feared and longed for.

“Six healthy young men have been killed in the last six days,” Sam explained, glancing between his new partner and his friend. “All with odd throat lacerations and severely low levels of testosterone. Have you heard anything like that before?” He asked before hurrying on nervously as he remembered his partner. “Some kind of myth based copycat killer or something?”

“Testosterone?” Wanda asked, pushing the bead curtain aside and emerging from the backroom. She nodded politely to Steve when Sam introduced them but kept her eyes on the photos that James was looking through. She watched James as he pushed the photos away and shook his head but made no move to free his other hand, then looked up at the SHIELD agents. “It sounds familiar, but I will have to do some research.”

Sam looked as if he wanted to say something, but the redhead’s clipped tone kept him from asking. “Ok, thanks. Call me if you find anything,” he said, gathering up the photos and tucking them away.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Steve murmured to James, acting as if he hadn't heard Sam or noticed his partner heading for the door and gently squeezed the witch’s hand.

James nodded and kept his eyes locked on the blond’s collar, unsure if he could keep his lips pressed shut if he raised them any higher. 

Steve seemed unconvinced but didn't press, letting go and nodded politely to Wanda. “It was nice meeting you.” 

Waiting until both agents had left the shop and a minute more to make sure they weren't coming back, James slumped to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“Another cellular phone?” Wanda asked gently, sitting down next to her brother with their backs to the counter.

“Jurys out.” James muttered, clenching his left hand.

-

Inside Sam’s car, Steve flexed his left hand and stared at Warren’s Tea and Spice through his rain streaked window. Staring as if he had forgotten something, something hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“James is fine,” Sam assured him as he got into the driver’s seat.

Steve’s frown deepened. “When they said informant, I didn't think that meant psychic.”

Sam stiffened but tried to shrug it off. “What do you mean psychic? You don't fly planes.”

Steve glanced at Sam but said nothing for a moment, eyes flicking back to follow the small shop as their car pulled away. “I did once.”

-

“Succubi” Wanda said, pulling a book off one of the display shelves. She thumbed through it until she found the page she was looking for then pulled James to his feet and handed the book to him. “They are pretty common these days and are big fans of the Bay Area.”

“They feed on testosterone?” her brother asked, flipping through the pages with great interest. 

“Mmhmm, there is a witch working downtown as a psychiatrist who prescribes testosterone and estrogen to the succubi and incubi in town. They are very fun people to party with,” Wanda explained, looking over his shoulder at the book.

James glanced up from a detailed illustration of a very naked demonic lady. “Seriously? How do you know all this?”

The redhead shrugged one of her shoulders. “We accidentally crashed an asexual support group a couple of years ago and made some friends. And you really are not going to tell me about your premonition?”

James slowly closed the book. Purposely not looking at his sister, he rubbed the fingers of his left hand together again. “It wasn't a premonition, I don't get premonitions with my left hand, my demon powers override them,” he mumbled, silently thankful that was all Wanda had asked about. The shock had worn off and the demon witch was cursing his stupid hopeful heart for getting so caught up on someone who kind of looked and sounded like his dead lover. Steve Rogers was a common name for crying out loud!

“But you saw something.”

Sighing, James set the book aside and rubbed at his face with both hands. “I saw someone, who looked kind of like agent Rogers, crash a plane into the ocean. It probably doesn't mean anything. I mean, they don't even make those types of planes anymore! We should be focusing on this serial killer,” He snapped, wanting to forget the whole morning had ever happened. Forget that for a moment he had though his Stevie was still alive.

Wanda frowned at her brother’s sharp tone but let the matter slide for the moment; James was right after all, they had a killer to catch. Picking up her purse with a waft of red magic, the witch shooed her brother towards the door. “Alright, we will go find out who fell off the 'no killing’ wagon.”

And that is how James found himself outside the fanciest strip club in the bay area. Though he wouldn't have guessed it from the outside. 

Built into the alley way of a swank hotel, painted black and silver with a hammered silver sign above the door, Mischief looked more like the dance clubs Pietro kept trying to drag James into. The ones with music playing at ear splitting volumes and people shamelessly dry humping on the dance floor.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Wanda asked, watching her brother make a face at the building. “I could call Pietro.”

“Not getting to go to the strip club is his punishment for the Grindr app!” James grumbled, shaking his head and squaring his shoulders.

Wanda shrugged and walked up to the bouncer. Mischief wasn't open yet and the huge man wearing sunglasses raised an eyebrow at the witches. “Wanda Halliwell to see Queen Lulu.”

The bouncer frowned and muttered into his earpiece, then straightened and pushed the door open for the pair.

Passing by an empty coat check counter and through a black curtained door, James still wasn't sure this place was really a strip club. The raised stage on one side of the room with poles and a large cage on either end was promising but the black leather couches and dark green tables with their silver accents would have out done the hotel’s in the five star restaurant next door. The lights were on but Mischief still projected an air of dark mystery with its shimmering dark green crystal chandeliers and silver snakes curled around the corners of the walls and bar.

“Wanda!” a tall man with long black hair and mischievous green eyes called, sweeping away from a small group of athletic looking women and causing his black lace dressing gown with its green feather trim to flutter behind him. Flinging his arms wide, the man embraced the redheaded witch and kissed both of her cheeks. “It's been too long, darling!

“Loki!” Wanda cooed, tucking a strand of the man’s hair behind his ear. “Far too long but we have been busy lately.”

Glancing behind Wanda, Loki’s smile got a bit more mischievous. “Busy indeed,” he purred as he watched an extremely nervous James being surrounded by women.

“I appreciated that you think my ass is vibing? But, uh, I'm really not- ohh that's your hand, ok, no touching please. Yes, thank you but I’m gay.” James stammered, carefully extracting himself from strippers who had surrounded him. Several disappointed noises came from the crowd but thankfully they quickly dispersed. James’s sigh of relief turned into an “eep”, as yet another hand landed on his ass.

“Guess it's my lucky day then,” a male voice whispered in his ear. Its owner was half a head shorter than James, with purple hair and a nose ring. Several other male strippers were now slipping out from the curtained back areas of the club to prowl up around the demon witch.

“That's enough, shoo!” Loki said, coming to James’s rescue and waving his hands at his employees. “I do apologize, they don't usually swarm newcomers that way.”

James gave the fabulous Loki a meek smile, feeling very underdressed in his Henley, serviceable raincoat and jeans, and offered his right hand. “James Halliwell.”

“Loki, also known as Queen Lulu, owner and operator of Mischief,” Loki said with a dramatic flip of his hair and a glare at his loitering employees. “How can I help the lovely Halliwell witches today?”

James started, and looked wide eyed at his sister for an explanation.

“Loki is a trickster god, and self-proclaimed guardian of all queers,” Wanda said, walking up and placing her hand on Loki’s arm. “He has worked with our family for many years, we can trust him.”

Loki grinned his mischief making grin and Wanda quickly clarified. “For the most part.”

Deciding he would be much happier not knowing what was behind the knowing looks his sister and the trickster were giving each other, James got down to business. “We think there's a succubus in town killing men, have you heard anything?”

Frowning, Loki crossed his arms and tapped a finger to his lips. “Now that you mention it, that might explain a few things. Daisy!”

A young woman stuck her head out of a set of curtains, her curly hair a halo around her head. Spotting her employer waving, she quickly pushed the curtains aside and hurried over.

“Do you think she-” James asked, tensing up again.

“No, no, Daisy is asexual, and the best accountant you have ever meet, but she might have seen your killer,” Loki assured them, smiling as the woman bounced up. “Daisy dear, could you tell these lovely witches about the other night.”

Daisy didn't look at Loki, her eyes glued on to James. Smiling up at him, the young succubus slid up to the demon witch, fluttered her eyelashes and licked her lips. “Hey baby.”

James gave her a very uncomfortable smile.

Loki frowned. “Daisy!” he snapped a little sharply, finally drawing his accountant’s attention, “the bar fight.”

“Oh, right,” Daisy said, still distracted with walking two of her fingers up James’s arm. “I went for a drink after work the other night and this lady got all up in my face and demanded that I get the hell out of her territory. Which is stupid because I’ve been going to this bar for months and I’ve never seen her before. Never seen you before either, what's your name sweetheart?”

“This ‘bitch’?” Wanda pressed, also frowning at the young succubus now.

Daisy blinked at her and continued. “Right, I told her to get lost and her eyes started glowing red. She nearly barbecued me with a fireball, but it set off the sprinklers and I lost her in the panic.”

“Succubi don't throw fireballs,” Wanda muttered thoughtfully, absentmindedly drumming her fingers on her arm.

“No, but a succubus killing men would be territorial,” Loki countered, “I asked Brunhilda to investigate but she hasn't found anything yet.”

Their pondering was interrupted by James’s yelping and Daisy giggling.

“I thought you said she was asexual!” James squeaked, struggling to keep Daisy’s hands from wandering any father down his body.

“She is, Daisy!” Loki said, raising his hand and snapping his fingers. Green sparks flashed in the air for a moment then vanished.

Daisy blinked, then blinked again and leapt away from James. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! You smell so good, I just don't know what came over me!” babbling apologies, the young succubus hurried away.

James frowned and tugged at the collar of his Henley and shoved his nose under it to sniff. Turning his head, he gave a confused look at Wanda. “I do?”

Wanda shrugged but Loki’s eyes narrowed.

“James, Darling,” he cautiously asked, “you wouldn't perchance be a virgin?”

Turning bright red and fanning himself, James looked away and mumbled. “Oh my, well I mean. It depends on your definition of virgin?”

“Mmhmm,” Loki said, turning to look at Wanda. “He is not allowed to go succubus hunting. Powerful virgin witches are the ultimate prize for sex demons. She will tear him apart.”

Ignoring her spluttering brother, Wanda nodded. “It is time to call Pietro.”

-

“I can't believe you’re sidelining me because I haven't…. You know.” James complained, blushing slightly as he sulkily slid across the kitchen island countertop.

“I cannot believe you went to Mischief and did not invite me,” Pietro grumbled, giving the vanquishing potion he was brewing a sullen stir.

Wanda pushed her twin out of the way and dipped a ladle into the cauldron to carefully fill a glass vial. Ignoring her grumpy twin in favor of her grumpy older brother. “How have you not had sex yet? I thought you said-”

“We never got that far,” James said, interrupting Wanda before she could speak his name.

His siblings stopped moving and blinked at James.

“I didn’t want to hurt him and he didn't want to pressure me,” James reluctantly admitted while keeping his glare focused on the far wall, “so we found... other things... to do, until…”

Wanda and Pietro glanced at each other and cautiously continued.

“We are just concerned for your safety, sex demons are not the only evil that would love to target a virgin witch,” Pietro explained, beginning to nervously twist his fingers at the tension in the air.

“There are also thirty seven potions and twenty nine spells that are amplified or exclusive to virgin witches,” James growled, straightening to storm out of the kitchen in a huff.

Wanda moved quickly, blocking her brother’s path and gently taking his hands. “You are right.”

“And we are sorry,” Pietro added, hugging James from behind. “We do not want to pressure you. The Grindr thing was stupid, I am so sorry.”

“We just want you to be happy,” Wanda whispered, bowing her head.

James sighed, feeling his angry drain away and tugged Wanda into his arms, opening his mouth to repeat what he had been saying for months. “I'm just not ready to…” but then he paused, an image rising unbidden in his mind. Broad shoulders, dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Blushing, James imagined agent Roger’s smile, a little cocky, a lot gentle. Imagined those thick arms unleashed from straining sleeves.

“Jaaaames?” Wanda asked, a knowing smirk suddenly growing on her face.

Wide eyed, James quickly extracted himself and hurried out of the room.

With a pop, Pietro blinked in front of him, throwing his arms out to block the path from the dining room to the entry hall. “Does big brother have someone he likes?” he purred, quickly putting two and two together.

“No?” James said, backing away towards the conservatory and mentally cursing agent Rogers for infecting subconsciousness as he ran into Wanda.

“So, you did not just picture someone naked?” Wanda asked, bracing her arms across the doorway to keep her brother from slipping past.

“He had pants on!” James blurted out, immediately regretting it. Knowing it was impossible to resist, he let his shoulders slump and blushingly admitted it. “Sam’s new partner.”

Pietro frowned in confusion, but Wanda burst out laughing.

“Quit it!” James wined, once again trying to escape but getting glomped by his sister. “He's really hot! And muscly! I mean he could probably crush my head with his biceps but was so sweet! He worried about me!”

“Really? You switched from twink to twunk? Sad I missed that,” Pietro said, poking his sister to try and get her to stop laughing and explain. 

“He has a more specific type,” Wanda giggled, kissing her pouting older brother’s cheek. “Blond men named Steve!”

“Yeah,” James muttered, viciously shoving down the little bubble of hope that rose up at hearing that name and escaped back into the kitchen past his sister. Picking up the vial and waving it pointedly at his gossiping siblings. “You think we could get back to the mass murderer now?”

The bottle was yanked out of James’s hand by a swirl of red magic and flew into Wanda’s hand. “You are not coming.” 

James opened his mouth to restart their argument but was shushed as Wanda’s phone started ringing. He tapped his foot impatient as the redhead ‘uhuh’ed for a minute or so then said thank you and hung up.

“Loki’s contacts have not found the woman but have found several potential targets, we are taking a eHarmony event downtown,” Wanda told them, waving her hand and sending her red magic out to gather her purse, keys and athame.

“I can watch the door!” James said excitedly, “two eyes on the inside and one across the street!”

The twins gave him matching unenthusiastic looks but finally relented and agreed that he would keep watch and call them if he saw anything suspicious. But under no circumstance was he allowed to engage the succubus. And to keep temptation out of his hands, was given no vanquishing potion.

James agreed and after a quick change of clothes for the twins, all three loaded into Wanda’s car and headed downtown.

“Stay in the car,” Wanda repeated over her shoulder to James in the back seat. “Call us if you see anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, at least roll the window down.” James snarked, rolling his eyes but making sure to compliment both of his siblings on their outfits as they climbed out of the car and headed across the street to a small chic looking bar. They easily sweet talked their way past the hostess station outside the front door and disappeared inside.

James settled back for a boring wait but quickly straightened back up as he spotted Sam and Steve heading towards the bar. 

The Halliwells had texted Sam to warn him about the succubus but had insisted that they would handle it so as not to drag Mr. Sexy New Partner, as Wanda had insisted on calling him, into a magical situation. 

But here they were! About to walk right into a magic sting!

Cursing under his breath, James quickly dialed Wanda. He watched as the SHIELD agents walked up to the hostess, talked with her for a moment and then was pointed toward the alley and back door as the dial tone in his ear droned on. Wanda’s voicemail told James to leave a message as he watched Sam and Steve disappear down the alley. 

“Just call if you see anything.” James mocked, dialing his sister again. The dial tone bussed on as James glanced back up to see a tall blond woman walking toward the alleyway. 

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, eyes flashing red, before following the agents down the alley. The succubus.

“Fuck!” James hissed, shoving his phone back in his pocket and kicking the car door open. He dodged two cars crossing the street and ran after the blond. Bobbing and weaving around dumpsters and old boxes, James winced as he saw the scene at the end of the alley.

Sam was down, blood oozing from a gash on his forehead but still breathing. Steve was crouched protectively over Sam, a cut over his eye but standing strong with the lid of a trash can held up as a shield.

The succubus was stalking towards him, disabling and tossing one of the agent’s stun guns over her shoulder to land next to a second on the ground. “You can't resist me,” she purred, swaying her hips and curling a finger through her long blond hair.

Steve gave her a crooked grin revealing bloody teeth from a split lip and rolled his shoulders. “I can do this all day.”

“Fucking moron,” hissed between James’s teeth at the all too familiar scene. “Hey! Pick on someone your own size!”

The warm feeling of nostalgia of having to pull his blond out of another back alley fist fight evaporated as James was forced to quickly duck as the succubus whirled around, cursed, and hurled a fireball at his head. 

Steve frowned, looking almost confused at the brunette’s sudden appearance, but James didn't wait for either blond to act. Flinging out his left hand, James let a bolt of lightning flash out and slam into the demon.

She staggered back but didn't fall, snarling as her eyes flashed red. Ignoring the smoking wound on her shoulder, She leapt forward to tackle James.

But he saw it coming. Falling back and shoving hard, James hurled the demon over him and leapt back up.

The demon scrambled to her feet, wiping a dapple of black blood from her lip and summoning up another fireball.

James didn't wait for her attack, dashing forward to deflect the fireball against the alley wall and shimmering them both to a nearby rooftop. Away from collateral damage, James disengaged and let his demon side free and clenched his hand as it was covered in ice. He may not have a vanquishing potion, but he had power and he was going to use it to end this bitch who had targeted his friends.

A flash of recognition, and fear, crossed the succubus’s face, her hesitation sealing her fate.

James attacked, wrapping his left hand around the sex demon’s throat and sending all of the cold in his core flowing through to freeze the murderess’s fire.

Not going without a fight, the succubus grabbed at James’s wrist and he nearly screamed at the burning pain of her touch. Fire and ice battled on that rooftop in San Francisco hissing and screeching for dominance.

Ice won. 

The succubus’s hand went limp and slid off of James's wrist as his ice spread across her skin.

Letting go with a pain filled gasp, James backed away from the woman who fell to her knees. The ice around his wrist did not regrow or sooth the angry looking burn that now circled it.

The succubus drew her last breath and smiled. Holding her hand palm up to reveal the skull shaped mark burned into it she whispered her last words. “Hail… Hydra…”

“Wait!” James shouted but it was too late. The succubus exploded in a ball of fire.

Hydra? Recruiting higher level demons instead of turning humans? This was bad.

James’s ringtone shocked him and he quickly fumbled to get his phone out. Wanda was calling him.

“Would you believe that there are people who think stealing a woman’s cell phone is considered a ‘fantastic’ opening line?” Wanda grumbled over the line. “Did you see something?”

“The succubus is dead.” James said, cutting right to the point and hopefully postponing the scolding he would receive. “I gotta do damage control, take the car back to the house and I'll meet you there.”

Quickly hanging up before Wanda could start screaming, James took a breath and pushed his churning emotions down and shimmered back to the alley.

Steve was kneeling next to Sam but leapt to his feet and grabbed for his retrieved side arm as James appeared. 

“You probably have some questions,” James said softly, his eyes falling on the blond’s discarded shield and smiling slightly. He didn't fight the hope that bubbled up this time, for maybe, but maybe this tall blond who refused to back down would smile at him. Would roll his eyes and say ‘I had it under control’. Would prove that miracles really did happen and give James something of his old life back.

That hope turned to acid in the back of James's throat as rage twisted agent Rogers’s handsome features.

“Just one,” Steve snarled, storming to James’s side and slamming the palm of his hand against the brick wall next to the demon witch’s head. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“What?” James whispered, smile fading and eyes wide as he curled away from the fury being thrown at him.

“Fucking around with demonic power!” Steve all but shouted, his frustrated rage getting the better of him. “Playing with a dark magic you don't understand! Just waiting for them to consume you! Are you that stupid or just eager to embracing being evil?”

“I just saved your ass!” James shouted back, his shock melted under the heat of his growing pain and indignant anger.

The agent was barely moved by the shove but crossed his arms and leaned back and spat back. “I had it under control.”

James gave a cracked laugh, tears burning in his eyes as this twisted new version of his beloved memories played out with him unable to stop it. Stomping over and picking up the trash can lid, he waved it at the glaring blond. “Really? Please enlighten me with your great plan to stop a demon with this!”

Steve’s eyes darkened and he ripped the lid out of James’s hands, showing no reaction to the hiss of pain the witch gave. “You can do a hell of a lot more with a shield than you can with demon lightning.”

Fighting back angry tears, James shook his head. He glanced at Sam, who had come around and was looking back and forth between the blond and brunette with a confused look. “Jurys in,” James spat out, clenching his hands as his voice cracked, “Another cellular phone!”

Turning sharply, James shimmered home. He landed on the front porch to give himself the satisfaction of slamming the front door as hard as he could. Ripping his jacket off and sobbing as the fabric slid across his burned wrist, and kicking off his boots, James stormed upstairs and flung himself on his bed.

Curling around a pillow the demon witch let himself sob out all his anger and hurt. Stevie would never have yelled at him, Stevie would never have told him off, Stevie would never have assumed.

Stevie was gone.

Over and over James promised himself he would never let hope open his heart again. That he would never believe in the impossible. That he would never be stupid enough to think that agent Steve Rogers could ever be the sweet little boy who had loved every dark and demonic part of him. The sweet little boy who knew that James would never be evil.

And that is where the twins found him, with Alpine making biscuits on his arm and tears slowly drying on his cheeks. They bandaged his wrist as he told them what had happened. Several curse options were offered and turned down before dinner was made and finally the new Hydra news was written down and carefully pinned to a large cork board in the attic.

**Extinct? - > Returned.**

**Recruit Rumlow. - > incarcerated**

**Agent succubus. - > decided**

Later that night Pietro was doing his rounds, turning off all the lights before heading to bed. He paused in front of this board, scribbling something down on a sticky note and pinning it to the board. Then he yawned and stretched, tugging at the last lamp’s pull cord and blinking down to his bedroom so he did not trip over anything in the dark.

**Our Destiny**

-

Steve Rogers kicked the front door of his new apartment shut. It did little to improve his foul mood.

He had tried to argue his side of the story with Sam, but his partner had just put on his senior agent face and told Steve that he wasn't angry, just disappointed. 

Which was even more infuriating. But how could Steve explain? How could he tell his partner that he knew James was playing with a bomb that would one day go off in his face. How could he explain that he knew because it had happened to him.

How could he explain tug at the back of his mind. The feeling that all of this was supposed to be achingly familiar. That he was staring at a puzzle with the final piece in his hand but couldn't see the picture it was supposed to make. How could he explain the feelings of longing and confusion and frustration he felt every time he looked at James.

How could he say all that without ripping up what was left of his tattered heart. Without admitting the truth, that he hadn't been able to save the man he loved. That Bucky was really gone.

Anger slowly faded to exhaustion, Steve stumbled into his bedroom. Flopping down on the bed, he reached over for the picture frame sitting on his bedside table. One of two worldly possessions he carried with him.

“He's gonna get himself killed, Buck,” Steve murmured, tracing his fingers over the faded strip of photo booth pictures. They depicted two small boys in the arms of a tired looking blond woman. Sarah Rogers had been smiling that day as she held her little Stevie Rogers and his best friend Bucky Barnes on her lap, the little boys making silly faces at the camera.

Steve shook his head and let the only photo he had left of the man he had loved and lost nearly 70 years ago fall onto his chest.


	9. Look Who's Purring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween eve!!! Enjoy and stay safe with some witchy reading!

James glanced up from the dough he was kneading as the faint echo of a barking dog came through the open kitchen window of the manor. Flattening the dough, he carefully took a pinch of dried thyme and a small handful of fresh chopped basil and spread them over the dough before rolling it up. Concentrating on the bread as he started to knead again, James let his power flow into the dough, filling it with healing energy and strength.

“And then Director Fury walks into my office and I’m thinking, ‘oh fuck here is comes.’” Sam said, continuing whatever rant he had been in the middle of when he had run out of beer and had to take a detour around James to get a new bottle from the refrigerator.

“‘He's going to ask me to watch his freaky cat’” James guessed, mimicking his friend’s voice and spreading a little more flour on his cutting board.

“He's going to ask me to watch his freaky cat!” Sam affirmed, jumping up to sit on one of the kitchen counters and looking down as Alpine gives an affronted merp from the floor. “I’m sorry but it's true! His cat redefines the term freaky! I swear I saw it eat an entire watermelon once.”

Unimpressed with this explanation, Alpine turned and, tail and head held high, strutted out of the kitchen.

James gave a soft laugh as Sam gave him a guilty look and transferred his dough into a waiting loaf pan. Washing his floury hands and carefully covering the bread with a damp towel, James grabbed a slice of pizza. Hopping up on his own edge of the counter, the demon witch waved a hand for his friend to continue.

Sam blink then gathered his thoughts and continued. “Right, so Director Fury comes in and I'm freaking out and he stands there for a minute and then says, ‘so you know about magic’.”

“What!” James gasped, surprised by this news but also wanting to put on an appropriate show of shock for Sam’s benefit.

“That's what I said!” Sam shouted, picking up a slice of pizza and waving it for emphasis and losing a piece of pineapple in the process. “Turns out that SHIELD is also a magic peacekeeper. All ‘normal’ agents are partnered with ‘magic’ agents in case they get into a magic situation. That's the reason Rumlow lasted as long as he did, it's hard to find magic agents.”

James hummed thoughtfully and took a sip of his vodka on the rocks. “So that’s why your new partner knows about magic.”

Silence fell for a moment as Sam watched his friend fidget. “That's also why I can't get rid of him,” he finally said, watching a mix of emotions flash across James’s face, “I don't know enough about magic to go it alone. Until I pass SHIELD’s qualification exams Steve will be sticking around. But that doesn’t mean I have to bring him around you.”

Sighing, James got off the counter and plucked a clean pot from the drain rack and set it on the burner on the kitchen island. Taking out several potatoes, a couple onions and carefully setting a bulb of garlic to one side, the demon witch began to chop the vegetables.

Growing up without powers, there hadn't been much for James to do when his Stevie got sick, again. Until he had stumbled across an old book in an old bookstore. Its cover had been torn and the pages stained but still spoke clearly of the power one could imbue into cooking. James had bought the book without a second thought and run all the way home to rummage through Sarah Rogers’ cupboards for any of the spices the book spoke of. His cooking hadn’t cured Stevie, but the carefully crafted soups and breads had taken away some of the blond’s pain and put a smile on his thin face. And that had been enough for James. The young witch spent years of his life over battered pots and old ovens, cooking up anything and everything he could get his hands on and putting his power into it.

He couldn’t stop Stevie from being sick, but he could cook and in cooking James had found comfort. And even after everything that had happened, the clean smell of boiling water or repetitive push of kneading had still been enough to melt the tension from his shoulder. Measuring out the herbs and concentrating on the gift he wished to give centered the witch, calming and soothing him.

But not today. Not since Agent Rogers’ harsh words had ripped open the wound in James’s heart that had only just begun to mend.

“Hey,” Sam murmured, jumping down and looping an arm around James’s waste, “talk to me.”

The demon witch pushed the pot off the heat and leaned heavily against the counter. “I thought,” he started, then stopped and blinked against the building presser behind his eyes and in his throat. “He reminded me of my Steve and I thought maybe.”

James stopped again and pulled away from Sam to grab a damp kitchen towel from the sink and pressed its coolness against his flushed skin to mop up the hot tears now spilling down his cheeks. “I don't know what I thought, it was stupid,” he choked, shaking his head as Sam tried to hold him again. “I see Stevie everywhere, everything reminds me of him, that's just how grief works! Just because someone has his name or laughs like him doesn't mean he's going to be the kind person I loved. Stevie is gone.”

James stopped talking as his sobs overcame his words. He felt the cloth he was clutching to his face being gently tugged and he dropped it. Turning sharply, the witch out of time buried his face into Sam’s shoulder.

Sam wished he could find someone new to curse instead of the dozen names he had already condemned a thousand times over. Instead, all he could do was hold his friend and gently sway from side to side, one hand buried in the witch’s long brown locks and the other stroking gently circles on his back.

The agent frowned slightly as the sounds of James’s pain were interrupted by dogs barking down the street. The barking grew louder as the sobs slowly faded and turned to long shaky breaths and Sam pulled away to cup James’s damp cheeks in his hands. There was nothing he could say to make the pain ok, but he wasn’t going to just stand there in silence.

“How about we finish our kitchen witchery?” he said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over what sounded like the entire neighborhood’s dog population going crazy.

Giving his friend a weak smile, James nodded and accepted the damp towel to wipe his face and blow his nose.

Throwing the towel into the laundry room attached to the kitchen, James turned the stove back on and glanced out the kitchen window as the noise of the neighborhood's dogs finally dawned on him. He sprinkled a pinch of turmeric over the reheating water before wiping at his eyes again with the cover of his apron and frowning at the dark of the night. “What is going on out there?”

A clatter and a yowl came from the other end of the house and Alpine came bolting into the kitchen. Onto the kitchen island in one leap and over the stove in another, the white cat latched its claws into James’s Henley and buried his head between the witch’s arm and side.

“Maybe I should go check,” Sam murmured as James tried to smooth down the prickles in Apline’s fur as the familiar continued to let out muffled, mournful merps.

A pop interrupted the pair as Pietro appeared in the doorway to the dining room. He had a wild look in his eyes and his hair was in complete disarray. He was also dressed only in a long dress shirt and boxers, with several darkening bruises peeking out from his collar. “How do you know when it is love?” he asked in a rush, clinging to the door frame to keep his shaking legs from giving out.

“Ookkaayy,” James said, blinking rapidly at the sudden appearance of his disheveled younger brother. “I guess I don't know what ‘netflix and chill’ means.”

“Yeah I was wondering about that,” Sam muttered as he recalled James telling Pietro that The Great British Baking Show would be a good choice to chill to earlier in the evening. At least Wanda had been frank about her date with Vision at Magic School. “So how's Clint? Did you at least let him finish before you did the blink of shame?”

“No,” Pietro said haltingly, looking a bit guilty but waving his hands and plunging on. “We were making out on the couch and he looked at me and for some reason I thought he was going to say ‘I love you’ but he did not and then I got sad that he did not and started thinking really hard and was distracted so Clint stopped kissing me and said that we did not have to do anything tonight and, and, and how do you know when it is love?”

Glancing from his silver haired sibling pressing his clenched hands to his lips and looking desperately at him to Sam who shook his head and muttered ‘don't look at me’, James sighed. Taking Pietro by the shoulder and looking squarely into his blue eyes, the older witch gave his advice. “In my experience, when you start asking things like ‘how do you know when it's love’.”

James and Sam watched as the words slowly sank in and smiled as Pietro lit up.

“Good,” he murmured giddily, “good, because I love him. I love when he does dumb things to make me laugh, I love when he does selfless things that make me proud, I love when he kisses me and it feels like I am flying, I love when we-”

“AH!” James shouted, flinging out a hand to cover his brother’s mouth. “I’m happy that you are in love, But Pietro, if you start spouting soliloquies about your boyfriend’s dick, I'm leaving.”

Sam laughed as Pietro realized what he had been saying and blushed. “And you should probably get back to that man you love and make sure he didn't have a heart attack from you blinking out like that,” the agent said, laughing even louder as the silver haired witch’s eyes got even wider and he vanished with a faint pop.

Pulling a face and striking a dramatic pose against the doorframe, Sam sighed loudly. “Ah, young love.”

James shook his head fondly then glanced back through the doorway towards the manor’s front doors. “The dogs stopped.”

Sure enough, only the faintest sounds of barking could be heard coming from farther away from the manor.

Shrugging, Sam turned around and picked up James’s abandoned knife to start cutting up the onions. “Weird.”

-

‘Weird’ Sam thought as he tried not to be sick at the sight before him.

A middle-aged man lay in a pile of broken glass, blood coming from every orifice.

“No signs of forced entry, unless you count the window, three stories up.” Steve said, glancing up from the body and waving at the empty window frame with its shattered glass strewn across the carpet with his pen. Without batting an eye, the blond looked back down and started taking notes on a small paper pad he insisted was better than a tablet or phone.

Looking up from the horrifically murdered man, Sam stared at his partner. “Seriously? Just like that?”

“You get used to it,” Steve said blandly, stepping around the glass and blood to examine a photograph on a side table. The glass of the frame was broken and scattered on top of the fresh rose laying at the base of the frame. “Who’s this?” Steve asked, glancing over his shoulder at agent Hogan who had been first to the scene.

Happy was also staring at Steve in confused disbelief but glanced down at his tablet and answered. “His wife; died suddenly three months ago. Neighbors said he was taking it pretty hard.”

Steve hummed and walked over to the broken window to look out at the quiet neighborhood as it woke to the horror that had happened the night before.

“You don't think he killed himself, do you?” Happy asked cautiously, frowning at his own theory.

Steve didn't respond, so with a sigh, Sam straightened from where he had been crouching next to the body and faced Happy. “Probably not but we should check if he was taking any meds that could have caused this, why don't you get some of the other agents to take the body to be examined.”

As Happy nodded and left, Sam turned to deal with his increasingly frustrating partner.

Steve was still looking out the window, watching three figures jogging up the street, away from the mass of SHIELD cars that had blocked their path.

One with silver hair was way out in front, jogging in place as he waited for the redhead to catch up. And in the rear, brown bun pouncing from his movement, James Halliwell turned to look back over his shoulder at the building before turning and hurrying away.

“You said you were in the neighborhood last night,” Steve said in a tone that clearly wasn't questioning.

Sam hesitated, tensing and regretting opening his mouth to express his surprise as they had driven up to the scene. “I was visiting friends,” he reluctantly admitted.

“I want to talk to the Halliwells,” Steve said, turning away from the window and heading towards the door.

Gritting his teeth, Sam followed, nodding to Happy as they exited the apartment building. “It's nice to have wants, isn't it? Well they don't want to talk to you after what you said to James.”

Stopping suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, Steve turned and leaned close to Sam. “A demon killed someone in their neighborhood, they need to be told.”

Sam said nothing and watched as his partner turned away and started walking up the street. Steve was right, but he was still an ass. Tugging out his phone, Sam quickly typed out a message and then hurried to catch up with the blond.

-

“Not every strange incident is caused by the forces of evil, James,” Wanda chided as she unlocked the manor doors and stepped out of the heat of the early morning sun. Dropping her keys into the bowl on the cabinet next to the front doors, the redheaded witch took a long drink of her water bottle and started her post-morning jog stretches.

Pietro, still grumpy about their run being cut short by the mass of SHIELD cars surrounding the apartment building near the end of their street, had opted for doing mountain climbers on the bottom stair as he thought about where he would like to blink to for a second run.

James rolled his eyes at his brother and tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe at the sweat dripping down his face. “Well now you've jinxed us, so it definitely is.”

“He’s got you there, sis,” Pietro gasped as he switched to burpees in the middle of the floor.

Frowning at both of her brothers, Wanda straightened from her stretch and walked over to James who was rolling his left shoulder again. Grabbing his arm and tucking it behind his back, the redhead gently stretched her older brother’s shoulder out.

A ping from James’s phone interrupted Wanda before she could lecture her brothers on paradoxes and the oldest witch glanced over at where he had set his phone on the hall table. “See who it is, Pietro,” he grumbled, groaning slightly as Wanda worked out the knots that had started to appear in his shoulder after he accepted his demonic powers.

Grumbling at his workout being interrupted once again, Pietro picked up the phone and glared at the message. “From Sam, ‘C. P. I.’ what does that mean?”

James’s eyes bulged and he gasped, “Rogers,” before shimmering out of Wanda's grasp.

The twins frowned and stared at each other in confusion until a pounding on the front doors caused them both to jump.

“For fucks sake Steve!” Sam’s voice said from behind the glass of the front door, now covered by the shadows of two figures.

“Cellular phone,” Wanda muttered.

“Incoming,” Pietro finished, setting James’s phone aside.

Throwing back their shoulders as if they were about to go to battle rather than answer the front door, the Halliwell twins marched over and opened a door each.

Looking somewhere between worried and irritable, Steve Rogers towered over the two with Sam, looking more irritable and less worried, beside him.

“Can we help you?” Wanda said in her best frosty customer service voice.

Steve glanced between them at the empty interior of the house and his frown deepened. “Where's your brother?” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Out,” Pietro snapped, putting his free hand on his hip. “Can we help you?”

Coming back to the two witches glaring at him, Steve shifted on the porch and his expression soured even more. “May we come in?”

In perfect sync, the twins turned to look at Sam who sighed and waved his hand. “It's demons.”

 _“Told you so,”_ Pietro said in Russian, letting go of his door and resignedly starting to stretch out his muscles.

Wanda made a face but spoke primly to the two agents. “Please, come in.”

Sam walked in first as Steve stumbled ever so slightly before crossing the threshold and closing the doors behind them.

“What is it this time?” Wanda asked, moving to stand next to where Pietro had hopped up to sit on the hall table and grumpily folded his arms.

Sam held up his phone and opened his mouth but was cut off by Steve. “A banshee.”

Pietro slowly lowered his hands to his knees and some of Wanda’s aggression faded away. They looked to Sam who held out his phone that showed a picture of the victim.

“That is definitely a banshee, would explain the dogs you and James heard last night too,” Wanda said with a nod, continuing as Sam gave her a confused look. “Demon with a supersonic scream who goes after people who are sad.”

“Widower with burst blood vessels,” Sam said softly, tucking his phone away.

Smiling ever so slightly in smug success, Steve started laying out his plan. “I know a spell to track a banshee so when the sun sets, we can find her before she starts to hunt and-”

“No,” Pietro said, standing back up and refolding his arm.

Steve stopped short and stared at the silver haired witch. “No?”

“No,” Wanda repeated, also folding her arms. “We are not tracking down a banshee.”

The disbelief at what he was hearing was soon replaced by righteous anger as Steve stared at the two witches. “This demon came into your neighborhood, killed someone just down the street from you, and you aren't going after it?” he asked, desperately trying to tell himself that he had not understood the twins.

“No, we are not going after it,” Pietro clarified, his fingers beginning to tap restlessly against his arm under the glare of the tall blond SHIELD agent.

But Steve didn't yell, he was very careful not to let himself yell. Instead he took a breath and clenched his hands. “I never thought I would see the day the great Charmed Ones sat on the sidelines and let innocents die,” he growled, turning away and storming out of the manor.

“Hey!” a shout rang out behind him as James came out from where he had been hiding in the kitchen, eyes flashing an ethereal ice blue.

But Steve didn't stop, keeping his lips pressed firmly together to keep all the hurt and anger he was feeling from spilling out as he slammed the front door behind him.

“Rogers!” Sam yelled after his partner but got no response. Turning to mimic a strangling motion to the Halliwells, he quickly followed Steve out of the manor.

-

“I can't believe them!” Steve said for the fourth time that afternoon as he continued to pace the length of his and Sam’s office. Frustration was pouring off of him in waves. Frustration at the needless death, at the all too familiar resistance to take action, at the warm feeling of familiarity of the outrage that had flashed through James’s icy blue eyes and having no idea why it felt comforting to have his brashness called out by the beautiful brunette.

Sam looked up from the demon index he had gotten from Warren’s a few weeks ago to look at Steve. That morning Sam had been convinced that he was going to have to put Steve into an anger management course if he wanted to get any work done. But as they day had gone on the blond had lost his glower and looked more and more lost and bewildered.

“Look,” Sam finally said, lowering his book to point a finger at his new partner, “babysitter is not in my job description, so whatever is going on with you, deal with it. Apologize, and figure out a way to work with the Halliwells, because whether you believe it or not, we are destined to fight with them.”

“But they aren't fighting!” Steve exclaimed, waving both of his hands in the air.

Sam let his pointing finger droop and shook his head, turning back to his book. “And I’m sure it hasn't dawned on you that they might have had a reason not to…” Sam trailed off as he turned a page of his book and stared at the information written across the paper. “Oh my god,” he murmured, pressing the fingers of one hand against his brow

“We need to go after the banshee ourselves,” Steve said as he finally stopped pacing and rested the palms of his hand against the surface of Sam’s desk.

Snapping the book shut, Sam glared at his partner. “ ‘We’ aren't doing shit, you are going home. You're done.”

Steve took a step back at his partner’s anger, but his own fury and indignation was quick to return. “You can't-.”

“I can!” Sam snapped, cutting Steve off. “You may know more about magic, but I am still the senior agent and I have had enough of you antagonizing our allies. You are off this case, go home!”

The blond did nothing for a moment, hands clenched into fists. Whipping around, Steve snatched his jacket with enough force that it sent his chair crashing to the floor and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

Taking one slow breath to try and calm the hammering of his own heart, Sam picked up his phone and dialed the manor, nearly shouting across the line when Pietro answered. “Why didn't you tell me that banshees used to be witches?!”

-

“I can't believe you are going out there” Sam grumbled, arms crossed and a sour look on his face

James glanced up from where he was crouched over the Book of Shadows, scribbling on a sticky note pad, and raised his eyebrow.

“Correction,” Sam said, pinching the brim of his nose. “I absolutely believe you would risk being turned into a banshee and go out there. I can't believe we are letting you.”

Looking back down at the vanquishing spell he was composing, James shrugged and repeated his winning argument. “Only witches with repressed anguish are in danger of being turned into banshees, I know where my pain is so I’m only in danger of being killed. Which, dispute being one of the strangest sentences I have ever said, is pretty damn normal for the Charmed Ones.”

Peeling a note off the pad and sticking it to the page of the book, James rolled his shoulders and began copying the spell onto a second note, muttering under his breath. “And that man would still be alive if it wasn’t for me.”

Glancing up at the disapproving noise his friend made, the dark-haired witch gave a lopsided grin and pulled off the second note. “Besides! It’ll be a cold day Down There when I let fucking Detective Rogers be right about us!”

“Ah spite,” Pietro said, coming into the attic to hear the end of his brother’s speech. “The most noble of motivators.”

Sam shook his head, exchanging a tired look with Wanda as the redhead followed her twin into the attic. “I guess if you are going to use yourself as live bait, it might as well be for spite’s sake.”

Giving his best friend an utterly fond smile, James handed two copies of his spell sticky notes to his siblings. “I’ll be fine, Pietro and Wanda will blink to me as soon as the banshee catches my scent, or whatever, and we’ll-”

“Say this?” Pietro asked, interrupting James and wrinkling his nose as he read the spell. “Turn our power into a giant wall, bounce off of us like a rubber ball?”

“This is a school yard spell!” Wanda snapped, her arm dropping to her side as she glared at her older brother.

“The principle behind it is still sound, changing the course of power is easier than stopping it all together. And with the Power of Three behind them, these spells are far more powerful than you think!” James insisted, rolling his eyes as his siblings continued to frown. “Sometimes simpler is better!”

“Like a loaf of bread?” Sam said softly, a small smile lifting his lips.

“Or a bowl of soup,” James murmured, smiling back.

The twins glanced at each other in confusion before Pietro shrugged and stuffed the note into the breast pocket of his gray flannel shirt. “Fine, but I am not yelling it.”

“Then whisper it,” James hissed through his clenched smiling teeth, eyes wide in irritation.

Fortunately, before any bickering could start, the sunset alarm on Sam’s phone went off and the witches stared at the agent.

“It’s time,” Sam murmured, turning off the alarm and putting his phone back in his pocket. “Good hunting.”

The Halliwell witches smiled and nodded, taking each other’s hands and vanishing into thin air.

-

70 years as a whitelighter had done nothing to improve Steve Roger’s terrible patience.

All the years he had been alive, he had spent waiting. Waiting for his body to stop falling apart, waiting for the other man to throw the first punch, waiting for Bucky to kiss him back, waiting for their life together to finally begin.

Waiting the precious seconds for the pain of his body changing and growing, filling with inhuman strength as the red star on his shoulder burned. Those precious few seconds before he had stumbled to his feet, two feet taller and covered in muscles, and rushed out their apartment’s door. But it had been long enough for Bucky to disappear from his life.

Steve had hated the hours that followed, cursed the tedious army application process, suffered silently through the monotonous training process. It was all too slow. Bucky had gone to war and Steve was still stuck waiting to catch up.

He had been all ready to sneak his way onto a cargo plane headed for England when Peggy Carter had punched him in the stomach. The fiery British witch had been the first to see Steve for what he now was. A product of magic. She had been quick to introduce him to the millionaire, and fellow witch, Howard Stark. Together, the three of them had formulated a plan.

Magic would never be accepted as a reasonable explanation for how Steve could take bullets and keep walking or throw a car as easy as a pillow. But for some reason, genetically engineered super soldier was far easier to swallow.

Steve had rolled his eyes when Howard first suggested it but had been more than happy to pay the dollar bet when he found himself on the next plane to the front lines. He had been less than happy with the red white and blue skin tight suit the millionaire had insisted was a reasonable uniform. Compromising with tinted leather body armor, Steve was forced to admit that the star and stripes painted on his vibranium shield had a certain stylish flair.

But no matter how many Nazis he killed, POWs he saved and tanks he punched, he couldn’t find Bucky. Steve ran out of places to search for the man he loved when he found himself at the helm of a plane full of bombs.

When he died, crashing into the ocean to save hundreds of thousands of lives and was blessed by The Elders with a second life, Steve thought that his days of waiting would be over. thought that with all the magic of the forces of good beside him, he would be able to free Bucky from whatever darkness had taken him away and fight any evil that dared to cause innocent people pain.

Oh how he had been wrong.

Instead, Steve found himself waiting to be called, moments too late to save his charge’s lives. Waiting for fledgling witches and potential whitelighters to realize that he was there to help them. Waiting for the battles that The Elders forbid him from fighting in.

Yes, destiny seemed determined to force Steve to spend every last one of his lives waiting. But Steve had never backed down from a fight in his life, even if his opponent was destiny.

He had hoped that this time, his third time working for SHIELD, would be different. But no, Sam was the same as all the rest of them, forcing protocol and outdated rules down his throat as an excuse to keep him from the front lines.

He had hoped that the legendary Charmed Ones, that he had been hearing fantastical tales of ever since his ascension, would be the force of good that broke the bureaucratic mold of the side of Good. But no, they were just like the Elders, too busy focusing on the ‘big picture’ to give a damn about the loss of innocent life happening all around them.

But damn it all if Steve was going to let any of that stop him. Not this time.

Storming out of SHIELD’s San Francisco field office, the whitelighter hadn’t had much of a plan formed around the burning anger and frustration consuming him. Orbing to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, he had managed to breath deep and calm the storm of his mind.

As a whitelighter, Steve couldn’t project sadness the same way humans did that lured banshees in like a shark to blood. But he also couldn’t be killed by them, or anything really, outside of a Dark lighter’s poison or the Elders’ combined powers. So the plan ended up being painfully simple.

Stake out the largest gathering of grieving humans he could find and wait. When the banshee attacked, Steve would orb her somewhere void of humans and figure out how to banish the demon there.

Ignoring the voice in his head that sounded remarkably like Bucky pointing out ‘figure the rest out later’ wasn’t a plan, Steve squared his shoulders and orbed off the bridge.

Appearing back inside the SHIELD office, Steve hung back in a dark corner and used his powers to let mortal eyes slide past without seeing him. A useful gift for angels to lend silent and invisible aid to those that needed it. A useful gift for avoiding Captain America fans for the first decade of his second life.

“Yeah, Wilson.” Happy Hogan said, catching Steve’s attention as he talked into his phone and stared at his computer screen. “I did the research you asked for. There are three grief support meetings tonight. Two are near Stern Grove Meadow and the third is four blocks over on 15th avenue. You don’t really think this sicko is targeting sad people, do you?”

Steve slipped out of the shadows, weaving his magic as he walked up to Happy and leaned over his shoulder to look at the screen. Three different windows were open, advertising said support meetings. Taking an educated guess, Steve picked the largest of the three and turned away. But before he could orb out, a spike of pain lanced through his lungs and they began to ache and strain. Steve staggered, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Rogers?” Happy asked, his voice and the sound of his chair being pushed back sounding filtered and far away as Steve took a slow wheezing breath. “I thought you left. Hey, are you ok?”

Steve gasped again and just as suddenly as it had appeared, the pain vanished. “Yeah,” he mumbled, straightening and avoiding Happy’s worried eyes. “Just forgot my phone,” he lied, patting his pocket and giving his fellow agent’s a reassuring smile but keeping his eyes fixed on his shoulder.

“Ok,” Happy said, his cellphone still pressed to his ear and an unconvinced look on his face. “Go get some rest.”

“Yeah,” Steve muttered, hurrying away from the conversation. He didn’t have time to deal with Happy and he didn’t have time to figure out why his lungs had burned for the first time in over 70 years. It was nearly sundown and the hunt would be starting soon.

-

Steve had been pacing outside The Father's House grief support meeting for nearly an hour after sunset and had been starting to worry that he had picked the wrong place when he saw her.

A woman with long white hair and dressed in loose gray tunic and pants. She appeared from out of a tree, landing silently on a park bench and cocking her head before crawling down onto the ground and slowly approaching the church the meeting was being held in.

Steve held his breath, moving quickly to cut her off.

But not quite fast enough as the demon’s head whipped around and stared at him. She bared her fangs and screamed, but it wasn’t the deadly scream that had the whitelighter freezing. It was her eyes.

Glowing ethereal blue, cold, icy, familiar.

The banshee stopped screaming as she realized this wasn’t a creature she could kill and turned to run towards the church.

Cursing himself, Steve ran after, dodging a car as he crossed the street and shoved the doors open a few moments after the demon. He was met with screams as the innocent support group goers tried to escape.

The banshee was standing on a table, snacks and drinks kicked to the floor, and grinning as she eyed all the potential prey. Her eyes locked onto a young man scrambling backwards away from her. Leaping down the banshee sucked in a breath and let her scream loose.

Glass shattered all around the room as the young man’s hands flew to his ears and blood began to drip from his eyes.

The banshee’s smile grew until a silver tray slammed into her head.

Steve grabbed a second tray from the abasing snack table and hurled it against the wall. It bounced perfectly and slammed into the banshee’s shoulder shoving her farther back. “Come on!” Steve shouted, grabbing the young man’s arm, hauling him to his feet and shoving him to the door. “Come get me!”

The banshee hissed, eyes flicking from her lost victim to this irritation distraction.

“Alright Cap, now what?” Steve muttered, rolling his shoulders as the demon flexed her clawed fingers at him.

But the banshee didn’t attack. Instead she frowned and turned her head as if distracted. Then hissed at Steve before running and leaping through a shattered window.

“Fuck” Steve hissed, running after the banshee

She was pretty easy to follow, her white hair flashing in the moon, and headed towards the center of the park. She dropped out of sight over the edge of a set of stairs.

Giving an annoyed grunt, Steve leapt over the railing and slid down the grass, attempting to cut the banshee off. Dodging around trees, the whitelighter slid to a stop beside a large boulder as he spotted the banshee. And what she had been hunting.

James Halliwell stood in the middle of the clearing in the center of a circle of candles, one hand on his left shoulder and the other hand out to his side palm up. Tears flowed steadily down his cheeks as he took slow deep breaths and stared down the banshee.

There was a clatter and from the left side of the park two more banshees leapt down to the concrete. A male wearing a tunic and a female in the more classic drab gray dress, both with their white hair cut short and glowing blue eyes twisted in glee. All three prowled around the witch, hissing softly as they boxed him in.

James kept his eyes forward, but they were unfocused as if seeing something far away and seemed to ignore the demons closing in on him.

The danger of the situation came crashing down on Steve as he stared in dawning horror at the witch. The witch whose grief had drawn in not one but three banshees. The witch whose grief would turn him into a banshee. Sucking in a breath to yell, to run, to fight and save the brunette, Steve stumbled at the loud pop that echoed through the quiet night.

Pietro and Wanda appeared hand in hand beside James, Wanda’s free hand seizing the one that James had been holding out. Her touch seemed to pull him out of his trance and he glared at the demons surrounding them.

The banshees, realizing they had been tricked, inhaled as one and screamed.

Lost in the terrible cry were the words that left the Charmed Ones’ lips, the words that seemed to make the scream worse, bouncing off the concrete walls of the amphitheater behind them.

The banshees stopped screaming, staggering back and clutching at their ears as their own screams were turned back against them. The noise grew louder and louder until all three exploded into black dust, slowly falling to the ground before disappearing completely.

James took a shaky gasp, wincing and biting his lip as he wiped fiercely at his eyes. His siblings moved in, pulling him into their arms and murmuring softly.

Hiding behind his rock, Steve couldn’t figure out how to move. Emotions swirled around his chest as he watched the Charmed Ones gather up their candles before disappearing in another loud pop. As they vanished, Steve turned away, leaning his back against the rock and sliding down to sit on the ground.

James had used himself as live bait for three banshees. And Steve had called him a coward. What could the young witch possibly be living with that would draw in three banshees?

Suddenly, Steve couldn’t breath. Clutching at his chest he orbed out of the too silent park and back to his apartment. Stumbling through the dark and knocking a lamp over, Steve found himself falling to the floor. Too weak to move and wheezing, the whitelighter curled up and tried to keep himself from panicking.

But as suddenly as it had taken over, the weakness vanished and his lungs cleared. Taking deep gasping breaths, Steve curled his arms around himself and stared into the darkness of his apartment. He hadn’t felt like this in years.

What was happening to him?


	10. Love (and Finding Out That the Ghostbusters Aren't Real) Hurts

Wanda smiled from where she was standing, half in and half out of the doorway to the back rooms of Warren’s Tea and Spice. She was watching her older brother make tea for one of their regulars, chatting easily with them while carefully selecting the herbs and focusing on imbuing the drink with his power.

James had grown so much in the six months since he had been dragged out of the past and into their lives. The terror and heartbreak his father had left him with had slowly faded, leaving James a confident and powerful figure in their lives.

Wanda had always been the confident one, ready to throw her shoulders back and stand between anyone who dared pick on her more nervous and flighty twin, Pietro. When James had first returned to them, Wanda had seen him as another brother to protect but quickly found herself proven wrong time and time again as the eldest Halliwell witch embraced his destiny, his other half and showed them all the power he had. The power of the old world that had slowly faded over time but returned from the past with the demon witch. The power of simplicity and emotions.

“What?” James asked, side eyeing his starring sister as he waved goodbye to his customer.

_“Proud of you,”_ Wanda murmured in Russian, letting the beaded curtain slide through her finders, obscuring her view.

“The math isn't that hard,” James said, misunderstanding his sister’s remark as he fingered the receipt. “Although, I still can't believe how high the damn taxes are.”

Sliding through the curtain, Wanda shook her head and took the receipt. Tucking the slip of paper into the cash register before lifting the entire drawer for James to close out, the redhead pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek and went to flip the Open sign on the front door to Closed.

As Wanda flipped the sign and turned the deadbolt on the door, a hand slammed against the other side causing her to jump.

“You aren’t closed are you?” Gasped a young woman on the other side of the door, her breath fogging up the glass.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Wanda tapped a finger on one edge of the Closed sign.

“Oh,” the woman said, biting her lip and looking pleadingly up at Wanda, “oh please, I need your help. I need,” she paused and glanced over her shoulder before whispering through the glass as if Wanda would be able to hear her.

“What?” Wanda asked.

The woman whispered again, no louder.

“Speak up or shove off.” James grumbled, coming up behind his sister with his armed crossed and unimpressed irritation on his face.

“Charmed help,” the woman said again, clearly this time and just a bit put out.

_“Of course you do,”_ Wanda muttered in Russian but unlocked the door and held it open for the woman.

“Oh blessed be, thank you,” the woman said, quickly dropping back into her previous breathy nervousness and taking Wanda’s hand in her own for a gentle squeeze. “My name is Synthia, Synthia Roseblossom.”

James gave a soft snort at hearing the woman’s name but kept his mouth shut and tilted his head towards his sister, signaling her to take the lead.

“It is nice to meet you Synthia, I am Wanda and this is my brother James. How can the Charmed Ones help?” Wanda asked, leading the woman to a chair and quickly pouring her a cup of tea. “And how did you know to come to us, if I may ask?”

“I thought for sure I was just being silly, but now I’m positive. My house is haunted! Oh, thank you,” Synthia said, taking a sip of tea in favor of answering Wanda’s second question. “It started with small things really, books and cups not being where I left them, then the lights going out and coming on at odd times. But tonight I came home and everything in my house was floating and then things started to fly at me! I barely made it out!” Giving a loud breathy moan, Synthia took another sip of tea.

“Call the Ghostbusters,” James said, moving to slide his finger across a row of books on their shelf. He glanced back at the affronted noise Synthia made and frowned, “what?”

“They are not real, dear,” Wanda said gently.

“They aren’t?” James asked, looking extremely confused as both women shook their heads, “then why is everyone saying to call them?”

“Is he serious?” Synthia asked, lip curling for a moment before giving both witches a weak smile and fluttering her eyelashes. “Please say you’ll help, I have nowhere else to go and I’m sure if I return I will be dead by morning!”

“We will help you, do not worry,” Wanda assured her while prying her hand out of Synthia’s grasp. “Do you have somewhere to stay for a few nights while we investigate?”

Synthia frowned for a moment, her eyes glazing over as Wanda finally freed herself, then quickly smiled. “Oh yes, I can stay with my… friend. I’ll head there right now. Thank you so much!”

“Your address,” James drawled, stepping in front of the retreating woman with an open book in one hand that had a silvery indistinct shape on the cover.

Synthia blinked at him and then shook her head, “oh yes, silly me, here,” she handed James a slip of paper and then fled the shop with barely a goodbye.

After giving the closing front door a long look, James turned and waved the paper at his sister. “Now I know I’m not from around here, but that was weird.”

“Very,” Wanda agreed, taking the paper and googling the address clumsily scrawled across it. “And so is this address, it is in the middle of that new development outside of town. It is not even finished yet, how could she be living there? And why would it be haunted.”

James shrugged, flipping through his book for a moment longer before holding it up. “Sounds like a poltergeist, they don’t always give good reasons to haunt stuff. You think it's a trap?”

“Possibly,” Wanda murmured, rubbing her thumb across her bottom lip, “but the shop is warded against evil and the tea charmed against ill intent and she showed no signs of either.”

“I guess she could just be a Katherine,” James said with a shrug, setting the ghost-apedia aside. Catching Wanda frowning in confusion at him, the older witch waved his hand vaguely. “You know, one of those people who are always demanded free drinks and look like you dumped a bucket of demon sludge on them when you say that you 'are the manager'.”

“A Karen,” Wanda said, shaking her head with a slight smile then tilting it thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose she could just be conning us. But I do not want to leave a poltergeist unchecked either way.”

James sighed dramatically and pulled out his phone, “guess that means no pizza and Drunk History with Sam tomorrow night.” He said, his slight smile betraying the heavy sadness in his voice as he texted Pietro.

With a pop and a whoop, the silver haired Halliwell appeared in the shop and shouted. “Who you gonna call!? Ghostbusters!”

“Apparently not,” James said dryly.

-

“I mean, it looks like it should be haunted,” James said, staring up at the huge gothic structure he found himself standing in front of the day after the strange Synthia Roseblossom had forced her way past Warren's Closed sign.

Set in the very middle of a huge development with half built, identical houses for miles on either side, the house they had been sent to was the exact opposite to its neighbors. With Dark wood covered in several different colors of chipped and peeling paint with a crumbling stone wall and rusted iron gate surrounding it, this house looked like it was half falling down.

“It is a historical landmark,” Wanda said, bending down slightly to read the bronze plaque set into the stone wall. “I guess that explains it?”

“Bad vibes,” Pietro muttered, squinting up at the house like it had insulted his mother.

“I think that’s the point,” James said with a slight smile, hefting his basket of ghost hunting supplies that his brother had eagerly packed that morning and pushing at the gate. It was heavy and barely moved under the witch’s hand. But before James could put his back into it, a pair of headlights fell on him as a car pulled up behind Wanda’s.

“Now what,” James grumbled, spotting the SHIELD logo on the side of the car before its lights went out, the door was shoved open and Steve Rogers got out.

“The hell are you doing here?” James snapped, stepping away from the gate to confront the agent as he walked around his car.

Steve paused, his frown deepening with his confusion and held up his phone. “You texted me.”

“Why in the fuck would I text you, of all people, and why do you look like shit?” James asked, tacking on his second question as his eyes readjusted to the darkness and he got a good look at the agent.

There really wasn’t any other word for it, Steve looked like shit. There were bags under his eyes and his shirt didn’t hug the well-defined muscles as it used to. Even his hair seemed drab and limp from where it hung around his pale face. But his blue eyes still flashed as he scowled at James’s comment.

“You asked for help!” He snapped, waving one hand at the house.

“I do not need your help!” James said, holding one finger up before turning back to the gate and shoving it open. Ignoring his siblings glancing back and forth between him and the agent, James stomped over the uneven and overgrown walkway.

“Obviously you do,” Steve snapped, quick to follow James towards the house, “carrying shit for a haunting into an un-haunted house.”

“The owner says it's haunted!” James snapped back, fumbling with the front door’s nob and finding it unlocked, “so the Charmed Ones, not some SHIELD flunkie, are going to deal with it!”

“It’s not haunted!” Steve shouted, grabbing for the other door knob and pushing it open, “you’d have to be blind to not see the dark magic around this house. Someone is trying to trap you!”

Both men crossed the threshold as Steve said the word trap and as if on cue the doors slammed shut behind and a dark mist rose up to cover the door.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” James shouted, dropping his basket and reaching for the mist.

“Don’t!” Steve yelled, grabbing James’s hand and pulling him away from the mist. “It's a darklighter’s curse!”

Frowning at the agent’s wide eyes, James gritted his teeth. “Why would a darklighter be trying to trap us?”

Steve said nothing and quickly let the witch go to walk farther into the dilapidated house.

“Darklighters only care about killing whitelighters,” James hissed, stalking after Steve, “why would one be after the Charmed Ones?”

Sighing as he saw the dark mist covering every window, every hole, every possible exit, Steve let his shoulders slump. “Because it's not after you. It's after me.”

Turning to look at the furious witch, Steve held up his hand and let a shimmer of white orbs run across it.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” James spat.

-

This wasn’t how Steve had hoped the evening would go.

Ever since the banshee’s banishment he had been feeling worse and worse. Guilt over his treatment of James mixed with his conviction of being right about the witch’s misuse of demon powers had left him tossing and turning every night. The days had been filled with old pains and weaknesses returning from his old life, from his old body, as black veins spread out from the star on Steve’s shoulder that had turned from bright red to near black itself. Worse yet, Steve’s whitelighter powers had also begun to weaken and disappear.

He had been shocked to hear James’s faint call for help in the back of his mind but hadn’t had the power to orb to the witch. Checking out a SHIELD car, Steve’s heart had been in his throat the entire drive to where he had felt the witch calling him.

There obviously was more to James than he had first thought, and Sam had been right to say that they needed to find a way to work together. He thought answering the witch’s call could be that first step.

But getting yelled at as he stepped out of the car had immediately turned Steve’s mood sour and he quickly found himself falling back into his anger. But James just wouldn’t stop, stomping away from him and straight into danger. And for some stupid reason, Steve had followed.

Right into a darklighter’s trap.

He should have known, should have recognized the signs. James hadn’t known he was a whitelighter so why would he have called to Steve. Of course it was a classic darklighter trap, to use witches to lure their whitelighters in for the kill.

But Steve had been too excited to hear the witch’s call, too eager to move past whatever it was that had his body turning against him, to see the trap.

Dark spots danced in front of Steve’s vision as he summoned up what little power he could to show James what he really was. He never expected the witch’s anger to turn to hate.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me” the witch had spat, turning away to run his hands through his long silky brown locks. “Of course you’re a whitelighter, you’re exactly like the Elders, how could you be anything but one of them!”

The exhaustion that tugged Steve down fell away under the fire of his anger at being compared to Them. “I am nothing like the Elders!” He shouted, slamming his fist against the wall.

“No?” James snapped, turning back and shoving a finger into Steve’s chest. “So you don’t think I’m a danger? You don’t think that my demon half is going to take me over and turn the Charmed Ones evil?”

Demon half? Steve’s eyes widened in surprise and he took a step back, “no, I-“

“Are you not convinced that I am incapable of making my own choices? That there’s no way I would ever choose to do good because I was born half demon?” James shouted, tears welling up in his eyes and making them even brighter than before and he continued to shove Steve back, “don't you think it would be safer if I was all witch? Aren’t you convinced that it's the only way to save me? Are you going to try and cut me in half too? And smile as I lay there dying because even if I don't survive having half of me ripped away, it's for the greater good!?”

“I didn’t know-” Steve whispered, horrified at what he was hearing.

“You don’t know a thing about me!” James shouted, finally stepping back with a cracked laugh and a wave of his arms. “You never bothered to even try.”

Steve opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. Because it was true, he hadn’t tried. He had pushed James away, lashed out at him, rather than feel the pain and confusion of being faced with someone who reminded him so much of the man he had loved and lost. He had been so scared that he would come to care for James and lose him the same way he had lost Bucky that he hadn’t even tired.

But James wasn’t Bucky.

“Why don’t you be useful, Whitelighter, and orb us out of here,” James muttered, bringing Steve out of his thoughts.

Steve hesitated and looked down at his left hand. The black veins that had spread out from the mark of magic that Bucky had left him with were peeking out from the cuff of his shirt.

Bucky had always said Steve was the strongest willed person he had ever known and had woven that strength into the spell that had given Steve his superhuman abilities. But right now, Steve wasn’t acting like the man Bucky had known. And the spell knew it.

“I can't,” Steve said softly, letting his hand fall. “My powers aren’t working.”

Glaring at the blond with his tearful eyes, James sighed through his nose and walked over, holding out his right hand. “Then I’ll shimmer us out.”

A lump formed in Steve’s throat. Even after all he had said, all the pain he had caused, James still held out his hand to help.

“No one is going anywhere,” a new voice growled and both men turned sharply to see a man in a black suit, smiling cruelly. Holding out his hand, the darklighter summoned his crossbow loaded with arrows covered in a poison made to kill whitelighters.

Steve had faced off against many darklighters in his life, but never without his powers, never without his shield.

“You are a very hard man to find, Captain.” The darklighter sneered taking aim. “But the Elders have offered a very enticing incentive.”

“Like you need any incentive to kill a whitelighter,” Steve muttered, regretting that his past had put yet another innocent in danger. Hating the people he had once believed in and fooled him so well and stooped so low as to put a price on his head and send it to the entire underworld. 

“The hell is he talking about?” James whispered, his left hand raising slightly as he readied for the fight.

Throwing himself sideways, Steve knocked James to the floor and dogged the arrow shot at them at the same time. “Run!”

Dragging James to his feet, Steve pulled him towards the front door. The curse surrounding the building would render him powerless and unable to defend himself. But taking the curse would open the doors and free James. It was an easy choice, after all, he was practically useless right now anyways.

Shoving his hand into the dark mist, Steve gasped as it wrapped around his skin. The mist streamed away from the door and wrapped itself entirely around the whitelighter. Fighting through the weakness spreading through him, Steve pulled the door open and shoved James through it.

Turning back, he saw the darklighter round the corner and raise his crossbow. Steve heard the click of the trigger, saw the arrow fly towards him, but never felt it connect.

James gasped as the arrow went through his side, the momentum of throwing himself in front of Steve carrying him to the floor. Forcing his eyes open, the demon witch threw out his left hand and sent a bolt of lightning flashing into the darklighter who vanished with a scream into a puff of black orbs.

The mist zapping Steve’s energy vanished with its owner and he fell forward, his knees splashing in the growing puddle of blood surrounding James.

“Nonononono,” Steve whispered, hands shaking as his mind went blank with fear.

Someone hit his shoulder and a scream echoed through his ears. The arrow in James’s side shimmered with red magic, the flights breaking cleanly off and the rest of the arrow pulling itself out.

“We have to get him to a hospital!” Wanda shouted, getting her arms under James’s back.

Swallowing his fear, Steve shook his head and shook out his hands, “there’s no time!”

Steve pressed his palms against the gushing wound on James’s side and for a terrifying moment, nothing happened. But as he pulled up every happy memory, every pleasant thought, every last ounce of love he had in him, the blond's hands began to glow.

As the blood slowed and the hole closed, a shudder went through Steve. A feeling of rightness he had never felt when healing anyone else. As if this was what he had always been meant to do.

James gasped, blinking rapidly as his wound healed over completely, and stared up at Steve.

“Whitelighters do not heal demons,” Wanda whispered, holding tight to James, "whitelighters can not heal demons."

Steve offered a weak smile and stood up. “Well, I’m not much of a whitelighter these days.”

-

Steve had stuck around to make sure that James had been completely healed before beating a hasty retreat, claiming that the darklighter would be coming after him.

It wasn’t true, darklighters and Elders alike had never been able to track him, that’s why they had relied on traps. But it had apparently been enough, as James had silenced his siblings with a nod to Steve and let the whitelighter get back into his car and run away.

That had been four days ago and Steve still wasn’t sure he was brave enough to make it the rest of the way across the porch to ring the Halliwell’s doorbell.

James, however, didn’t give him much of a choice as he pulled the door open. “You’re wearing a rut into the porch with all that pacing,” he murmured, leaving the door wide open and leaning against the frame, Alpine draped across his shoulders with a twitching tail and a disapproving glare.

“Sorry,” Steve said, shuffling his feet.

“Don’t be sorry, just replace the decking when you’re done,” James said, waving at the abused flooring.

Steve almost laughed and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, there’s no excuse for how I have been treating you.”

“No,” James said bluntly “there isn’t. But I wouldn’t mind an explanation.”

Taking a long slow breath, Steve savored the smells of fall and rain hanging heavy in the air. Then he spoke. “Someone I cared about very much was corrupted by demonic powers and I couldn’t save him. I thought… I was afraid that you would be corrupted too. But you were born into that magic, you know how to control it, you...”

Steve hesitated and pushed all his guilt and sadness away and looked James in the eyes. “You aren’t him, and I need to accept that and learn who you are.”

James watched him for a moment then smiled. “Thank you.”

Steve tried to smile back but he wasn’t sure he managed it.

Silence hung in the air between them before James cocked his head toward the inside of the house. “You want to come in?”

Steve took a step forward then hesitated and shook his head. “Not yet, I’ve got a lot of shit I need to get together first.”

Smile growing slightly, James nodded. “Ok”

Nodding back, Steve slowly turned away and walked down the steps then paused and looked back. “If you guys ever need a… you know, just call.”

James let his head tilt in the other direction and slowly nodded. “We will.”

Finally feeling a real smile spread across his face, Steve orbed away. He landed in his apartment, collapsing to the floor as he rematerialized.

His powers were returning. He slowly stood, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall onto the floor as he approached a mirror leaning against one wall.

The black veins had started to fade and the red star was regaining its color, but it was slow going.

Giving his reflection a tired smile, Steve turned away and sat on the edge of his bed. Arms feeling impossibly heavy, he picked up the photo of his old life and traced the edge of it with his thumb.

“I’m going to be the man you always knew I could be,” he murmured softly to the brunette boy of a long gone era, to his Bucky, “but to do that, I need to let you go.”

There was no answer from the faded picture of his smiling family and Steve slowly set it down on the bedside table. Letting his hand rest on the top of the picture frame for a moment, Steve slowly pushed it face down.

Standing back up Steve walked to the doorway then paused. Turning slowly back he lifted the photo and set it back up with a tired sigh.

-

James leaned against the closed front door, his small smile still clinging to his lips.

“Well Synthia does not remember a thing about being possessed by a darklighter to trick the Charmed Ones into leading their whitelighter into a trap, but we will be hearing from her husband, the lawyer, if we ever call her again,” Wanda said, taking the SIM card out of their household burner phone as she descended the stairs.

Setting the card and phone on the entrance hall table, the red-haired witch gave her smiling older brother a raised eyebrow. “Something good happen?”

“Maybe,” James said softly, pulling Alpine into his arms and pressing his face into the cat’s side as he purred loudly, “jury’s out.”


	11. The Spider-Starter

Steve gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed. He was in that small Brooklyn apartment, his huge new body too big for their small lumpy bed. Bucky was standing by the door, a yellow red light from their small kitchen window reflecting in his glowing blue eyes and against the ice covering his left arm.

“Wait!” Steve shouted, pushing himself out of bed but falling to the floor, his body impossibly heavy and was forced to watch as Bucky walked out the door.

“to war, to war, to war.” Echoed through the room along with a faint whistling.

A whistling, that Steve would know anywhere, was followed by an explosion. Staggering to his feet, Steve stumbled to the window and stared out at the German countryside, burning and torn apart by huge creators dotting the land.

He could see soldiers charging, see his men, his Howling Commandos running through fire and gunshots. One man paused, turning his glowing blue eyes towards Steve for a moment.

“Bucky!!” Steve howled, running forward, head long into battle but Bucky had vanished.

“He’s gone, he's gone, he's gone.” Echoed hundreds of voices, soldiers, witches, Elders.

“I’m not giving up on him!” Steve shouted, the world spinning around him, a dizzying kaleidoscope of fire and blood and death, “I’m supposed to be with him! Till the end of the line!”

The earth beneath Steve’s feet opened and he fell into darkness. He gasped as he landed on the streets of London. An air raid siren echoed off the black and white colored buildings as searchlights scanned through the near pitch blackness. The light illuminated dark figures with their backs to Steve, standing motionlessly in the street.

“Bucky!” Steve gasped, running from figure to figure, grabbing their shoulder to turn and face him and being greeted by a smooth space where their face should be.

Panic swelled up in Steve’s chest as he ran down the street, as he ran out of people to check. The figures started to disappear, causing Steve to scream, to beg. 

“No!”

He could hear the airplanes growing closer, their bombs bursting against the ground and covering it with inescapable, impenetrable darkness.

Faster and faster Steve ran until he only had one figure left. The world seemed to slow as he desperately tried to reach him, to finally reach Bucky.

Steve sobbed in relief as his hand closed around the figure’s shoulder.

“Bucky!” He gasped, turning the figure to face him.

Light blue eyes tinged with a deep sadness and framed by long dark hair blinked at him. “Who the hell is Bucky?” James asked.

-

Steve awoke with a gasp and a sob. He fell out of bed, grabbing his shield and backing himself into a corner, eyes searching the unfamiliar room.

It took several minutes for the blond to remember where he was, when he was, what century he was now living in and to let his shield slowly fall.

The nightmare wasn’t a new one, but seeing James had scared Steve. He didn’t dare ask himself why.

3:32 am the electronic clock on his bedside table told him. A horrible time to be awake on a Sunday but the whitelighter was unlikely to fall back asleep. Unlikely to even try.

-

Steve stifled a yawn into his hand as he followed Sam up the steps to the Halliwell manor.

“You look terrible,” Sam told him, glancing back and waiting for Steve to catch up.

“You are not the first person to tell me that,” Steve murmurs with a tired smile. Nightmares aside, he was actually feeling better. The pains from his old life had faded to only a few moments of breathlessness and aches and pains a day as the star on his shoulder shone brightly and filled him with its power. 

Sam hummed, unconvinced, but turned and kept walking up the steps. “Exactly what did you do to get a monthly brunch invite?” He finally asked, squinting in suspicion as he opened the front door and stepped through.

“I apologized,” Steve admitted, hanging back well away from the unpleasant pressure of the barrier around the manor.

Sam’s eyebrows rose, blinking at his partner and holding the door open. “Oh, I guess that would do it, are you coming in?”

Steve hummed slightly and rocked on his heels, “I need to be invited in.”

Laughing slightly, Sam tilted his head, “what, are you a vampire?”

“No, he is a whitelighter,” Wanda said, walking down the hall to greet their guests, “please come in, Steve.”

Taking in Steve’s smile and Sam’s shocked expression, Wanda led both men to the dining room where the table is already loaded with breakfast items. “You did not tell him?” She asked Steve, waving them towards their seats.

“It's hard to find a good time to say, ‘hey, by the way, I’ve been dead for years’” Steve said, shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on the back of his chair.

“At least we know why I had a vision of you dying in a plane crash,” James said as he and Pietro walked into the conversation from the kitchen and set more plates laden with food on the table.

Sam mouthed the word plane crash and then his eyes got huge and he turned sharply to stare at Steve. “Steve… Rogers?” He asked, using his hands for emphasis.

“Here we go,” Steve muttered, leaning on the back of his chair and waiting for the ball to drop.

“Captain Steve Rogers?” Sam asked, voice getting slightly higher.

Steve struck a pose and gave a slightly mocking solute.

Sam’s eyes bulged, Wanda gave a soft gasp and Pietro gave a loud laugh. “Hahaha! No way!”

“Who?” James asked, looking blankly at Pietro. 

“Captain America!” The silver haired witch explained excitedly, already texting a thousand words a minute to Clint about the discovery.

“Oohhhh,” James said, nodding, then turned and looked at Wanda. “Who?”

“You don't know who Captain America is?” Steve said, his voice lacked the mocking tone that often followed James questioning what modern people considered common knowledge. Instead he sounded surprised, pleased even, with a small smile lifting his tired eyes.

“I don't know who a lot of people are,” James confessed, shifting uncomfortably. Being mocked sucked, but the soft look he was being given instead was unexpected and put the witch on edge.

“Genetically engineered super soldier,” Sam explained, shaking off his awe. “And World War Two hero, famous for fighting on the front lines against the Nazi faction called Hydra and sacrificing his life to bring down a plane full of bombs headed for New York.”

“Famous for kicking ass with his shield and fists!” Pietro crowed, throwing several pushes into the air excitedly.

“World War Two?” James asked, an odd look on his face as he stared at Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve said softly, uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting. He had just been trying to do the right thing, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Was it as bad as they said?” James asked haltingly, continuing as the whitelighter gave him a confused frown. “The front lines, was it as bad as they said?”

The room fell silent as Sam, Wanda and Pietro looked between the two men. The two men from a far distant time.

“Worse,” Steve murmured after a moment, still a bit confused.

James let out the breath he had been holding and nodded. “Excuse me,” he said softly, grabbing a soft knit wrap off his chair and heading for the back door.

“I-“ Steve said, taking a step towards James.

Sam caught his partner’s arm. “It's ok, you didn’t say anything wrong,” he said, slipping past the whitelighter, “I’ll talk to him.”

-

Fall was well on its way in wrapping San Francisco in its orange and gold embrace. Leaves crunched beneath James’s feet as he slowly paced through the small backyard. There were pumpkins glowing in the soft morning light under a huge crab apple tree in one corner of the yard with patches of mint, rosemary and sage carefully pruned back for the coming winter.

“Hey,” Sam calls softly, carefully closing the back door behind him, “you ok?”

James stopped pacing and turned to face his friend, clutching tightly at his crossed arms. “I don't know, I’ve been reading all this stuff about the army, and war and its propaganda and bullshit. And… I don't know how I feel.”

Sam slowly walked to the witch’s side, keeping silent as he struggled to voice his feelings.

“I never wanted to go to war,” James blurted out, eyes getting bright, “partially because of Stevie but... But people like Steve did and they... They died. If I had enlisted instead of dreading being drafted maybe… Maybe… But then… I just don't know.”

“And that’s ok,” Sam murmured, lifting his friend’s chin to look him in the eye.

“I’m supposed to know!” James insisted, a tear escaping and sliding down his cheek, “I have the power of premonition, I’m supposed to know.”

Frowning, Sam put his hand on his hips. “The first premonition you ever got was me dying. And yet here I am. The future changes with every decision we make. You see possibilities and you make the best of them, you can’t know everything and no one expects you too.”

Accepting defeat in the face of his friend’s logical words, James slumped sideways and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. “Says you.”

Sam smacked his arm gently and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Do you want to tell Steve? About who you really are?”

“No,” James said quickly, whipping at his eyes. “You saw how uncomfortable he looked, I don't want to bring up his bad memories with my shit.”

Biting his lip, Sam chose his next words very carefully. “He's from the same time you are, he could be-”

“Don’t,” James said, cutting his friend off, “don’t put back that in my head. They are not the same person, Stevie is dead and I am finally starting to accept that. Don't give me more false hope to cling to, I give myself enough as is.”

Giving the demon witch a long look Sam shook his head and walked with him back inside. “Has anyone ever told you, you are too pure for this world.”

“That better not be another virgin joke,” James grumbled, missing the reference completely.

Wanda and Pietro were seated as the two men came back into the dining room, dishing out food and attempting to make normal conversation. Steve was also sitting, a worried look on his face as he poked at his plate of eggs, sausage and tomatoes. The blond opened his mouth, but James quickly spoke, keeping his voice bright. “You better have left me some chocolate chip pancakes!”

“We did, but please do not cover them in Karo,” Wanda said, wrinkling her nose.

Dishing up the pancakes, James kept his eyes on Wanda as he deliberately poured an unreasonable amount of corn syrup onto them before reaching for the chocolate sauces and late season strawberries.

“You are getting as bad as Pietro!” The red head whined.

Pietro spluttered, stabbing his fork into a piece of maple syrup covered clam waffle and waving it at his sister. “You just cannot appreciate a diverse palate!”

Steve’s expression lightened a little, but he still took the time to offer James an apologetic smile before starting in on his breakfast. In no time the witches and SHIELD agents were chatting and laughing easily.

The happy group was in the middle of teasing Steve’s seemingly bottomless appetite when there was a loud and rapid knocking on the front door.

Leaning forward to stare at the door Sam glanced at the Halliwells. “Are you expecting someone else?”

Wanda shook her head, pushing her chair back and walking to the door. Flexing one hand, she summoned up a swirl of red magic and pulled the front door open.

“Sorry to interrupt, is this Halliwell house? I really hope I didn’t just knock on some random person’s house.” The teenaged boy on the other side of the door blurted out. His brown hair was tousled and there was a smear of ash on his cheek, and a bloody and unconscious Tony Stark was draped across his shoulder.

-

“I am so glad this is the right address!” Peter Parker gushed, “Mr. Stark was already fading when he said it and I was so worried I had heard wrong. He said he can't die but he looks dead? He’s going to be ok right?”

“He will be fine,” Wanda gently reassured the boy, helping James ease Tony’s unconscious body onto a couch in the living room.

Peter rang his blood-stained hands, “That’s good, I think? How can he not die? How is that possible?”

The witches exchanged looks and looked back at the boy standing in their entry way.

“He’s an angel,” Steve said, walking around Peter and holding his hand out over Tony’s still form. The palm of his hand glowed with a soft white light and the burns and gashes that covered Tony’s body faded away.

Blinking rapidly, the whitelighter woke and looked up at the tall blond above him. “Oh no!” He gasped in horror.

“Nice to see you too, Tony.” Steve quipped with a dry smile.

Tony leapt off the couch, shaking his head violently and waving his hands. “No! Nonononono! I don't see you, I don't know you, you are not here!”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted, leaping over the couch and hugging Tony tightly before pulling away awkwardly. “Ah, hi! I mean, hello, you’re not dead. That's nice!”

Tony smiled distractedly at Peter, clapping him on his shoulder, “I’m fine kid, good job getting here.”

“Here with Steve,” James said, eyeing Tony suspiciously.

“No! Not with Steve! AH! I don't know any Steve, what is a Steve?” Tony stammer, waving his hands as if he could wipe the image of Steve out of his sight.

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “cut it out Stark, you can claim the fifth after you tell us why you are here.”

“Yeah, no,” James drawled, lounging back into an arm chair and interweaving his fingers, “I’m gonna need to know what the fuck is going on with you two first.”

Tony squeaked and clapped his hands over Peter’s ears and glared at James. “Language Halliwell! Show a little decorum in the presence of minors, if you please.”

Giving the whitelighter a slow blink, the demon witch looked far from impressed. “I’m Charmed, not charming.”

Peter looked up at the scandalized Tony and gently pulled his hand away from his ears, “I know the word fuck, Mr. Stark.”

Throwing his hands up in despair, Tony massaged his temples. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, of course the witches who cut ties with the Elders would meet the renegade Whitelighter.”

“Really?” All three Halliwells asked, turning to grin at Steve.

The blond shrugged, “I didn’t like their policies and they didn’t like me telling them to go fuck themselves.”

“You distorted half of Up There and have been on the run for years!” Tony shouted, disbelieving Steve’s nonchalant attitude over the whole thing.

“Hey! If they didn’t want their shit wrecked then they shouldn’t shoot death lasers at people and just assume that they are going to stand still! Excuse me for not liking the idea of my soul being recycled.” Steve snapped back, pointing his finger at Tony.

“I guess that explains the darklighter,” James muttered.

Tony stared at James, opening his mouth to say something incredulous and slightly hysterical when an explosion from the street rattled the windows of the manor.

“What the hell was that?” Pietro yelled, coming running in from where he had been making up a plate of food for their young guest.

“Probably the coven of evil witches that are chasing us that I forgot to mention when faced with HIM!” Tony hissed, waving his hands at Steve.

Peter squeaked in fear and hid behind Tony, “please don't let them take me Mr. Stark! I don't want to be an evil minion!”

Tony looped his arms around Peter, murmured comfortingly to the boy. 

James sighed loudly and clapped his hands against the arms of his chair before hauling himself out of it. “So much for a quiet Sunday.”

Taking the knife off of the plate Pietro was holding, James picked up an apple from the bowl of fruit on the entry hall table. Cutting the apple in half, James pointed his finger at Tony. “I’ll deal with this and then you are explaining, without the arm waving if you don't mind.” Holding half of the apple between his thumb and forefinger, James picked a dried laurel leaf from a wreath hanging on the hallway wall and opened the front door as Alpine leapt up onto the hutch and then to the demon witch’s shoulders.

Sure enough there were three witches standing in the street. They were dressed in black robes and a haze of magic hung around them and the front of the manor, masking them from mortal eyes. They hissed as they saw James and summoned up balls of fire.

Holding the cut side of the apple facing the street, James took a slow breath. Focusing his energy on his feelings of safety, protection, home and the deep vibrations of Alpine’s purr, the dark-haired witch slowly lifted the laurel leaf and pressed it to the star at the center of the apple’s core. Letting his breath out, James shoved the apple away from his chest, throwing his power out.

A pulse of good magic shot out from him, expanding rapidly and slamming into the witches, throwing them back and reinforcing the manor’s protection barrier. 

Thrown to the other side of the road and completely winded, the witches staggered to their feet. Flipping James off and gathering together, they vanished in a swirl of dark magic.

“Yeah, yeah” James grumbled, waving his hand at them as they vanished, “just stay out of the flower beds!”

Grumbling to himself about the manors of low-level evil, James closed the door and turned back to several sets of eyes staring at him.

“Did you just blast three witches back to Down There with an apple?” Tony asked, his voice a touch higher than normal.

James grinned and took a bite out of his apple half, picking up the other and holding it out to the starry-eyed Peter Parker.

“Can you teach me to do that?” Peter gasped, clutching the apple as if it were some great and powerful object.

James shrugged and glanced at Tony. “I guess, though I would think the Elders would be none too happy with me corrupting the Good of tomorrow.”

Expression souring, Tony looked away from the witch’s icy blue eyes. “I thought James would be a better fit…”

The Charmed Ones frowned at Tony’s words and then slowly turned to look at the young boy standing in their living room, with his tongue between his teeth and practicing holding an apple half in his hands. 

-

“One of my parents was a demon and the other was a witch. But they disappeared when I was a kid,” Peter said softly, fiddling with his fingers from where he had been sat down on the Halliwell’s flower patterned couch. “So I’m half spider demon and half witch. I got stuck to a wall a couple months ago and realized I can climb anything and shoot webs from my wrists. It was really fun at first but then these creepy people started following me and then my uncle…”

Peter fell silent, biting his lip as his eyes grew bright.

Tony stepped forward, putting himself between the teen and the Charmed Ones and SHIELD agents. “I found him running away from a cult of evil witches in New York. When I realized… I thought of James and decided that smuggling him to San Francisco was the best option. But somehow, they found us. I told Peter to leave me and find you and well, here we are.”

There was a long moment of silence in the manor.

Shifting slightly, Steve shrugged and finally broke the silence. “Well, whitelighters are pretty easy to track.”

Tony gave an insulted gasp. “Excuse you! If that were true, your perfect ass would have been nailed to the wall of Up There a long time ago!”

“It was probably the demon's blood fused to his soul,” Peter said, piping up helpfully.

All eyes turned to stare at Peter whose smile quickly faded. “I can sense it? Sorry, I thought it was obvious.”

Slow, everyone turned to stare at Steve who shifted awkwardly and fidgeted with his left sleeve.

“Anyways!” Pietro said, deciding that that was quite enough for one day, clapped his hands together. “James would be happy to teach Peter and we would be delighted for him to stay with us until he is ready to return home.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” James hissed, turning to follow his brother towards the stairs, “I barely know how to manage my own demon shit, how the fuck am I supposed to teach a kid?”

“Encouraging words, big smile, and lots of ‘just be yourself’s,” Pietro whispered back, shooting a reassuring smile at the confused uncertainty on Peter’s face.

Wanda ran up the stairs behind her siblings. “That is not training! That is guidance counselor-ing!” She whispered loudly at them.

“Maybe we should be focusing on the coven that’s after him?” Steve asked, adding his hushed voice to the conversation as he and Sam followed the Halliwells onto the second-floor landing.

“Can’t you do both?” Tony asked, running after them as they headed for the attic and gingerly sidestepping around Steve.

“I don't think ‘be yourself’ is going to help someone being attacked by actual demons instead of inner demons!” James exclaimed, starting to pace the length of the attic.

“We should call father, Peter will be safe at Magic School.” Wanda said, walking towards their magic mirror.

“We can't ask him to go hide at some fancy Magic School for the rest of his life,” Sam said, grabbing Wanda’s arm to stop her.

“His parents are gone and his uncle is dead! We have to protect what is left of his family!” Tony shouted, waving his hand towards the downstairs. 

The arguments went on and on, drowning out the faint click of the front door closing.

-

Peter tugged the hood of his jacket up as he slipped out of the Halliwell manor. His spidey sense told him he hadn’t alerted the arguing grownups in the attic and jogged down the steps.

He clutched at his phone in his pocket, the picture sent from a blocked number of his Aunt May and Ned tied up in a circle of fire burned into his eyes. He had lost his Uncle Ben by not standing up to evil, he wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

Hurrying down the street, Peter thanked the thick fog bank rolling over the city for the cover it offered and dodged down an ally. Flexing his fingers, the young demon witch leapt up and stuck to the side of the building, climbing quickly to the roof and rolling up his sleeves. Throwing a web to a nearby taller building, Peter started to swing through downtown San Francisco, towards where the blocked texter had told him to come if he ever wanted to see his family alive again.

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

His uncle’s dying words, burned into Peter’s head and heart. He had thought the responsible thing to do was to run, to get as far away from his loved ones as possible so no evil could use them against him. 

But evil didn’t care how far he ran, his love was his weakness and they had no problem using it to break him. So Peter would go, would give himself to the coven and keep his family safe.

Landing with a roll on the rooftop, Peter stared down the black robed, grinning, figures. Aunt May was struggling against her bonds and gag, giving her captors a look that would have sent any sane teenaged boy apologizing and promising to do better. Ned was trying to make himself as small as possible but immediately started to struggle and shake his head as he saw Peter, realizing what his friend was doing and begging him with his eyes to run.

“Let them go,” Peter said, voice surprisingly calm.

“Of course,” purred the head witch, her red eyes squinching up in what she probably thought was a comforting smile, “after you submit to us.”

The head witch snapped her fingers and one of her followers stepped forward and set a large shape wrapped in a dark cloth on a previously set up table. He did not unwrap the object and quickly withdrew.

“Embrace the darkness,” the head witch hissed, pointing at the object, “it is your destiny.”

Peter took a slow breath and smiled at his family, trying to let them understand that it was ok. Walking forward, he carefully unwrapped the object to reveal a meteorite. It was dark in color but there was something more, a darkness that shifted and oozed around the pockets and cracks of the rock.

A whispering voice echoed around Peter’s head, making his thoughts go numb as he slowly reached out and pressed both hands against the meteorite. A black ooze swirled up out of the rock and up the witch’s arms, slowly covering his skin.

-

“Three… two… one.”

A shimmer of air, a faint pop and two swirls of white orbs appeared on the rooftop, boxing in the coven.

Tony came out punching, his techno magic repulsers blasting the two witches guarding their prisoners all the way off the rooftop before diving sideways and orbing May and Ned away.

Pietro and Wanda appeared together, the silver haired witch freezing the nearest enemy before his sister used her powers to use the frozen figure as a shield from a fire ball thrown by another.

Steve and Sam materialized behind the coven leader, punching her and her closest follower out and watching as red magic dragged their unconscious bodies into a pile as the twins chanted a quick banishment spell.

James shimmered into existence next to Peter, ignoring the fight around him and grabbing the boy’s black ooze covered arm. In an instant the world fell away into darkness.

The premonition was murky, the world around him colored in a strange way. He was small, tiny, dying. Desperately searching for The One, his other half. The one that would thrive with him, that would put an end to the deaths of all the others. He was so close to finding them, James could just make out the face of a man out of the blurred colors. The man’s short rumbled hair did not look brown but James knew it was, knew his tired eyes were a soft blue. The beads and bracelets around the man’s tattooed arm clinked together as he reached down and finally, finally! Accepted him.

James inhaled sharply as he came back to the present. The dark ooze covering Peter’s arms and chest up to his neck had started to seep over James’s hands as well.

“Pietro get me a jar,” James hissed in Russian, turning his attention back to Peter as his younger brother vanished with a pop.

“Peter can you hear me?” The demon witch called softly to this teen of his own kind.

Peter’s eyes flickered open to reveal opalescent white orbs but he said nothing.

“Listen to me, whatever you are,” James said sternly, “he's not the one you are looking for, I swear to you. This vessel won't save you, it will die just like all the others, and I know how much it hurts you to do that to them.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, finally speaking but in a voice that was not his own. “Out of time.”

“No you’re not!” James snapped, shaking Peter’s arms, “I have seen the one you are looking for. Let Peter go and I will take you to The One.”

Peter looked conflicted, pearly eyes flickering around before finally looking up at James and whispering in a tiny scared voice. “Promise?”

“I promise,” James murmured, gently pulling one of his hand’s free from the ooze to accept the glass bail jar from Pietro.

Slowly, the creature possessing Peter nodded and the black ooze slid away, gathering into the palm of James’s hand.

It was heavier that James thought it would be but as the last strand let go of the teen and Peter collapsed into Steve’s waiting arms, the Charmed witch carefully poured the black ooze into the jar and sealed it tight. Breathing a loud sigh of relief, James looked down at Peter. “You ok, kid?”

Peter nodded, keeping his eyes on the jar, “it… Venom didn't hurt me. They just felt so lonely. You are going to help them, aren’t you?”

James hesitated and looked at the ooze named Venom. Peter wasn’t the only one who had felt the creature’s pain, but he had felt its joy too.

Smiling, James tucked the into the crook of his arm, “of course I am, I promised."

-

Back at the manor, cuts bandaged, bruises iced and bags packed, Peter stood in the entry hall and tried to find the words to sum up all that had happened in the past few months.

“Are you sure about this?” Aunt May asked, continuing to fuss over Peter and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. 

Peter didn’t even try to fend her off and nodded. “I’m done running, I want to learn how to use my powers. To use them for good.”

“I can't believe you get to go to Hogwarts,” Ned complained, his sadness mixing with pride and jealousy. “They better let me come visit!”

Pietro clapped a hand to Ned’s shoulder and snorted, “Hogwarts has nothing on Magic School! It is so much better! And less racist.” He said, muttering the last part under his breath.

Walking in from the conservatory, James rolled his eyes at his brother’s words. The demon witch was still carrying Venom in their jar in one arm and was now also carrying Alpine in the other. Shifting his load and carefully placing the large jar between the front paws of the family familiar, James laughed softly as Alpine clutched the jar to his chest and meowed at the black ooze inside. Carefully climbing the stairs to the first landing, James Reached up and called to his magic before knocking three times on the wall. As the three knocks echoed unnaturally loudly, an ornate wood door appeared in the wall.

The door opened and Headmaster Erik Lehnsherr smiled slightly at the sight of James. He had cast aside the black robe of magic school that he usually wore over his simple slacks and turtleneck. The two witches stood awkwardly at the top of the stairs and waited for Peter to finish saying goodbye.

“You take care of him,” James blurted out, unable to stop the hint of a threat from stealing into his voice.

But Erik didn’t look surprised. If anything, he seemed sad but solemnly nodded and murmured softly. “As if he were my own.”

James didn’t have time to parse out his swirling emotions as Peter hopped up the stairs.

“Hello Mister Magic School Headmaster sir!” The young demon witch chirped.

“Professor Lehnsherr is more than enough Mr. Parker,” Erik said gently, taking one of Peter’s suitcases and stepping back through the door to Magic School.

Peter hesitated and looked at James.

“I’m sorry I can't be your teacher,” James said softly, taking a step closer, “but if you are ever looking for a friend, you know how to find me.”

Grinning, Peter flung his arms around James’s neck to give him a tight hug. Pulling away, Peter pressed a finger to the glass gar and cooed over the black ooze that splatted a tendril against the other side and a white paw swiped at him. “Be good V!”

Giving one last nervous wave, Peter stepped through the door which closed and vanished behind him.

James stared at the wall for a moment before turning away. Leaving his siblings and Tony to manage the aftermath, James slipped out the front door.

“You’re really gone to help that thing possess someone else?” Steve asked, leaning against the porch railing.

“Yes, I am.” James said, keeping his eyes forward.

Steve pushed away from the railing and walked to stand in front of James, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Evil witches had them, they may end up doing evil things.”

“And a good witch saved them,” James said, no longer shying away from Steve’s stare, “they may end up choosing to do good things.”

Steve said nothing but gave an unimpressed hum.

After a moment of waiting for a more articulate response, James continued. “We stop being good when we stop giving people chances to do good.”

Slowly, Steve turned away and walked down the steps.

“You’re not going to stop me?” James called after him, frowning in confusion.

Steve paused halfway to the street, keeping his back to the manor and he called over his shoulder to the witch. “I’m glad I met you.”

Smiling as Steve walked on, disappearing around the corner, James fished a slip of paper out of his pocket. Scrying for a person from a premonition hadn’t been easy but with a little work and a lot of Googling, the Halliwells had managed to track down The One.

Eddie Brock, disgraced reporter living in their very own city, a short shimmer away.

Carefully extracting the jar of black ooze from Alpine’s arms and setting it on Brock’s apartment doormat, James knocked loudly on the door and darted down the hall to hide and watch.

Several long moments passed with just Venom twisting and churning in their jar as the only movement. Finally, the door was pulled open and Eddie stuck his head out. He looked terrible, bloodshot eyes and greasy hair stuck to his pale skin.

James distantly wondered how he had looked so much more beautiful through Venom’s alien eyes.

Eddie looked up the hall with a frown then looked down. He stared at the jar for a moment, falling to his knees as Venom sent a tendril out to press against the lid. “It’s you, you’re really here,” he whispered, opening the jar, “you’re really real.”

Venom slipping out, spreading out over the man’s skin who let out a sigh as if sinking into a hot bath. The darkness quickly melted into Eddie’s skin and he smiled as his blue eyes colored over to pearly white.

James pressed his smile into the back of his fingers curled around the corner of the hall wall.

Venom turned Eddie's head towards him but James pulled back, pressed his back against the wall and shimmered away still smiling.


	12. A Witch's Tale (And Scales)

“Reports from the magic dimension say that Hydra-“ Wanda was cut off again by the whistling noise of James’s text notification.

Snatching up his phone from the table top, James suppressed a grin at the message he had received and quickly typed a response.

Frowning at her sibling, Wanda lowered her laser pointer for a moment then raised her voice and started again. “Report says that- that- James!”

James looked up from his phone, that continued to whistle, to see his sister glaring at him.

“I am glad that you and Agent Rogers are getting along but this is important,” Wanda said, waving at their cork board that held every piece of Hydra intel they had gathered in the months following Rumlow’s arrest.

Pietro laughed happily and casually tossed the string he was sneakily shaking for Alpine to chase under the table over his shoulder, sending the cat bolting after it with a yowl. Throwing one arm around James’s shoulder, the silver haired witch punched the air with the other. “Finally, someone else is getting yelled at for texting their boyfriend during magic meetings! You never let me live down the dog picture sexts.”

Wanda rubbed at her forehead as James spluttered louded and stammered, “Steve is not my-“

“Normal people do not offer pictures of a motorcyclist holding a dachshund in a in tiny leather jacket by asking ‘hey baby boy, wanna seen a real man’s wiener?’” Wanda said, cutting James off.

Pietro merely laughed and tugged James’s phone out of his hand and turned off the volume. “We better pay attention or it will be frost looks and cold coffee for a week.”

James was still blushing slightly and nodded with a somewhat conflicted look on his face.

Taking a deep breath and putting on her ‘big sister back in charge’ smile, Wanda turned her laser pointer back to the board. “Reports are coming in that Hydra is making a move on the underwater realm, specifically targeting the Sea Hag who is the second most powerful in that realm. We are not sure if this is a power play or recruitment attempt, but the underwater realm has the most direct connection with the mortal realm via the oceans. If Hydra sizes control, they could use that connection to attack any shoreline at any time.”

“So how do we protect the underwater realm?” Pietro asked, twirling a pen in his hand instead of taking notes, "and isn't the Sea Hag is evil? She is not likely to have any interest in helping the Charmed Ones.”

Wanda nodded and walked over to the Book of Shadows. Lifting the book off its pedestal, the red headed witch flipped through its handmade pages, finding the Sea Hag’s entry and setting it on the table between her brothers. “Loki told me that he knew the Sea Hag a long time ago. She did not enjoy being told what to do so there is a chance she will reject Hydra’s offer. In which case, they will probably try and kill her. We need to find her before they do and convince her to, at the very least, prevent Hydra from seizing power in her realm.”

Giving another laugh, Pietro clapped his hands and stood up, “piece of cake!”

“But?” James asked softly.

“But she is not at home,” Wanda explained with a sigh, “Loki checked all her hideouts in the underwater realm and found them empty. According to myth she has a lair somewhere in the waters of Earth but we have no way to find it.”

“Sure we do,” Pietro said, leaning over and tapping the Sea Hag entry in the book of shadows, “there is a tracking spell right here.”

“You remember what happened the last time we used a tracking spell!” Wanda shouted, eyes going wide.

“You were only a bat for like, three days, calm down. Nothing will happen this time,” Pietro scoffed, ignoring his sister’s disbelieving noise and James’s shocked expression. “Come on! To the Sea Hag!” The silver haired witch shouted, pointing dramatically towards the ceiling and running out of the room with the Book of Shadows.

Wanda ran after him, yelling at her twin in Russian.

James stayed still, his misgivings over intentionally looking for a Sea Hag, that was most likely being targeted by Hydra, dwarfed by Pietro’s words still echoing around his head.

‘Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend,’

He had only just stopped hating Steve and now they were boyfriends? Pietro was joking, James knew he was joking but the anxiety didn’t care.

Did James want Steve to be his boyfriend? Was he ready to start dating? Was Steve even interested in him?

Question after question whirled in the pit of James’s stomach into a noxious brew that threatened to overwhelm him completely.

“Hey!” Pietro called, jerking James out of his thoughts, “come see what Wanda turns into this time!”

Feelings could wait, the fate of the world was the important thing right now.

James pushed himself up and his emotions down and followed siblings downstairs.

-

“I hate thiiiiis” Wanda whined, trying to steal the Book of Shadows from Pietro one last time.

“It is for the greater good,” Pietro said, mimicking the tone his twin always took when she lectured him about blinking off to Clint’s in the middle of a hunt or research or window washing day. Carefully pulling the Book of Shadows away from Wanda’s grabbing hands, the silver haired witch continued to trace the symbol from its pages on the attic floor.

“Remind me to go to the store next week,” James said as he came into the attic, arms full of candles and a bag of nori maki crackers. Handing the crackers to Wanda, he carefully placed the candles on the edge of the spell circle and started lighting them.

“Seriously?” Wanda asked, shaking the bag of crackers to gain James’s attention.

“We’re out of seaweed, that’s the closest thing in the house. If you hadn’t chased Pietro for the past two hours, I could have gone to the store but now they are all closed.” James grumbled, waving pointedly at the cuckoo clock hung on the attic wall that helpfully pointed to 11:45 pm.

“Great,” Wanda muttered, slightly hysterically, “I am going to be turned into a shrimp at this rate, or a jellyfish, I hate jellyfish!”

Pietro giggled at his sister’s plight and pushed the Book of Shadows to one side. Standing up straight and dusting the chalk off his hands, the witch pulled a slip of paper he had transcribed the spell on up. “Ready?”

“No!” Wanda shouted.

“Let’s just get this over with,” James grumbled tiredly.

The Charmed Ones carefully stepped into the chalk and candle circle and joined hands, reading the spell from the paper Pietro held.

“Powers of the witches rise. Find the hag who controls the tides. Balance chakra, focus chi. Lead us through the cruel, cruel sea.”

Nothing happened and all three witches stared at each other for a moment.

Then James shrieked.

He toppled to the ground as his legs were suddenly gone in favor of a huge scaly tail.

“Wha?” He gasped, propping himself up on his elbows and staring down at the dark blue scales that covered him to just above his hips and had left him, for some reason, completely bereft of all clothing.

“Why am I a mermaid!” James shouted at the same time as Wanda threw her hands in the air and yelled, “it was not me!”

Pietro just laughed.

“I have a tail!” James continued to yell, flopping it against the wood floor as if to prove it. “And no shirt, why do I not have a shirt!?”

Falling to his knees, Pietro started wheezing as his eyes watered from laughing so hard.

“It’s not funny Pietro!” James shouted, grabbing a nearby pillow and lobbing it at his brother, hitting him square in the face. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a tail!”

“Probably track the Sea Hag,” Wanda reasoned, a huge grin also plastered across her face as she kept well out of pillow range.

Pietro quickly retreated, still trying to get his laughter under control and headed towards James’s phone as it started to ring. “James’s phone, haha hoooo, how hehehe, can I help you.”

“Is everything ok?” Steve’s worried voice asked across the line, “I can feel James’s distress.”

“Oh yeah, he is fine,” Pietro said, mouthing Steve to his incredulous brother.

“I am not fine!” James yells, trying to drag his bulk up onto a rickety wooden chair.

“Just a little unexpected spell reaction,” Pietro explained, still as nonchalant as anything.

“Get off the phone and get me a shirt!” James yelled, yelping a moment later as he pulled the chair over on top of himself.

Unmoved by his older brother’s plight, Pietro did neither and tilted his head. “You do realize that when you change back there will be a good chance you will be wearing two shirts.”

Giving his little brother a dead eyed glare, James shook his head. “I don't care Pietro, I don't care. GET ME A SHIRT!”

“He doesn’t sound ok,” Steve commented over the phone, catching some of what was being yelled in the background.

“He is just being a big baby,” Pietro yelled back as Wanda summoned up a flannel shirt from downstairs, “you act like you have never accidentally been turned into a magical creature before!”

“I HAVEN'T!”

“That’s it, I’m coming over,” Steve muttered, the sound of keys giggling in the background of the call.

“Steve says he is coming over, “ Pietro said in a sing-song voice.

James stopped struggling into his shirt while keeping the top half of his body off the ground and stared wide eyed at his brother, “No! No, no, no, I don't want him here when I’m like this!”

“James says-“ Pietro started but was pushed aside as Wanda grabbed the phone.

“Stop teasing and blink him down into the bathtub,” she said, shoving her still grinning twin towards James. She waited until the bickering boys had blinked out of the room to turn her attention to the whitelighter on the other end of the line.

“Hello? Pietro? What is going on?”

“James was turned into a merman by a tracking spell,” Wanda said, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“What? Well turn him back!” Steve said, confused but insistent.

“Once we find the Sea Hag, the spell will end,” Wanda explained, picking up the Book of Shadows and eyeing the drawing of their target.

“No, do not put him in the ocean, you have to-“ Steve insisted but Wanda cut him off.

“We will do what we decide is best. It was James’s choice to say the spell and it will be James’s choice to follow through on the spell. You may be out of the doghouse, Rogers, but you are not a part of this team and have no power to tell me what to do,” Wanda snapped.

“Wanda, you don't understand,” Steve tried to insist but was cut off again.

“If we need your help, we will call. Until then, mind your own business.”

Hanging up with a huff, Wanda slipped the phone into her pocket and rubbed her tired eyes.

A loud shout and a louder splash from downstairs left the red headed witch with no time to rest and she hurried down to see what her brothers had done this time.

Broken the time space continuum, apparently.

The door of the second-floor bathroom was open and inside was a room much larger than should have been able to exist in the space of the house. An enormous claw footed bathtub took up the entirety of the room and a soaking wet Pietro stood next to it, giving the water sloshing inside the porcelain a dry glare.

“That might have been called for, but it was still rude.” The silver haired witch complained loudly, shaking his sopping sleeves uselessly.

“Was creating a pocket dimension for a giant bathtub really necessary?” Wanda asked, summoning a towel from the linen closet down the hall.

“James threatened to call Fish and Wildlife for cruelty to animals if I tried to make him settle for our tiny bathtub.” Pietro explained before shoving his face into the soft white bath towel, “Then he splashed me with his tail.”

Giving a loud sigh that clearly said ‘boys’ to the entire room, Wanda yelled up at the full bathtub and mer-demon-witch inside it, “James!”

Slowly, the top half of their older brother’s face appeared over the edge of the tub and glared down at them.

“Are you ok for the night in there?” Wanda asked, “or should I get you some goldfish crackers for company.”

A loud splash later and the second Halliwell twin found herself drenched.

-

James was just as grumpy in the early light of morning. Or at least what he assumed was morning’s light coming through the pocket dimension’s frosted windows.

The door to the bathroom was pushed open and a yawning Wanda shuffled inside with a mug of coffee in one hand and dragged a chair behind her. So it was definitely early morning.

James sort of patiently waited for the coffee to take effect on his sister and for his brother to appear with a bowl full of sugar and acting like he had been awake for hours.

“Wanda would not let me bring you a bag of clams,” the silver haired witch said when he finally appeared, tossing an apple into the bathtub instead.

“We cannot spend the whole day changing into dry clothes,” Wanda grumbled tiredly as James grudgingly accepted the fruit. “We need to find the Sea Hag and get James turned back to normal.”

“Amen,” James grumbled, “breathing underwater might be cool but snoring underwater is not!”

Taking advantage of her twin’s momentary silence as he titled his head and tried to imagine snoring underwater, Wanda explained her plan. “Legends of the Sea Hag say that mermaids make deals with her for a chance to experience love on the land. So it makes sense that you were turned into a merman, somehow they can find her under the water. We will all blink to the ocean, you track the Sea Hag and text us the coordinates so we can join you.”

“And exactly what am I supposed to do if Hydra is already there, or uh, I don't know, the Sea Hag acts like someone called the Sea Hag would typically act and attack me!” James asked irritably, catching his phone in its new waterproof case that Wanda tossed to him.

“Lightning their asses,” Pietro said as if it were obvious.

“Lightning them, from the water? I went to school in the 1930s and even I know that’s a terrible idea!” James yelled, finally getting some uneasy looks from his siblings.

“I know this is not what you expected,” Wanda said softly, walking up to put her crossed arms on the edge of the tub and resting her chin on top of them. “But we cannot let Hydra gain any more footing in the magic world than they already have. And spells like these can be far more unpredictable if you try and break them before their purpose has been achieved.”

Sulkily sinking beneath the waters, James looked down at himself. At his deep blue tail and black and grey checkered flannel shirt that floated and rubbed against his skin, catching at the scales at his hips. With his head beneath the water, the faint call that had kept him awake half of the night echoed through the water again.

It was the ocean, he knew it in his heart, but he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like the ocean had ever made it a habit to yell in his head before now. But maybe it wasn’t just the ocean. The spell was to track the Sea Hag, so maybe that call would lead him to her.

This was going to suck, but James had no intention of putting up with Pietro’s fish jokes for any longer than he had to.

“Let’s just get this over with,” James grumbled, resurfacing and sticking his arm towards Pietro.

-

At least Pietro had been considerate enough to blink all three of them waist deep in the ocean.

They had appeared in a small secluded cove just outside the bay. The mid-fall weather had the sky full of dark gray clouds and a soft rain falling onto the, frankly, freezing cold ocean waters.

“Pietro!” Wanda shrieked as a wave crashed over them, soaking her and Pietro the rest of the way.

James finally got his own laugh in, sinking down in the water and getting his tail straightened out. He didn’t feel the cold of the water against his skin and a sudden thrill went down his spine at the feeling of all that open ocean stretching out in front of him. Thousands of miles to explore and get lost in.

“Can you sense the Sea Hag?” Pietro called, spitting out salt water as another wave struck him in the chest.

Pouting slightly at being reminded of their mission, James stuck his head beneath the water. The call was still there, louder than ever, but next to it was a stranger chord. Something syncopated and almost discordant running along the bottom of the sea.

“I think I can feel her,” James said, surfacing a few feet away from his siblings in deeper water, “go back to the manor, I'll text you when I get there.

He didn’t wait to see them vanish before diving back down and revealing in the speed and power of his new tail. With a single stroke he was out to open water, spreading away from the stench of land into the clear deep depths.

While deep trenches, kelp forests and playful pods of dolphins beckoned James away from his mission, the strange tones of the Sea Hag kept him focused and swimming onward.

He found her cave an hour after leaving the shore behind. Its entrance was surprisingly easy to find with a carefully cultivated coral and seaweed garden surrounding the oval opening in the rock. Luminescent algae was strung along the cave walls making it easy to see where he was swimming and only increased James’s unease.

The tunnel ended at a large pool as the cave above it was empty of water. Surfacing carefully, the witch ducked behind a protruding rock as he heard movement and spotted a figure walking in the shadows.

The cave itself was decorated with shells and pearls and clusters of brightly colored seaweed in vases covered in barnacles. Large globes of light emitted a faint glow from where they were stuck to the walls and columns of the cave with what looked like bows made of seagrass beneath them.

It was weird but this was where the discordant sound had come from, echoing out of a large coach on a pedestal near the pool’s edge.

Tugging out his phone in its dive case, James quickly sent a magic GPS signal that Pietro could blink to.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here,” murmured a deep voice that echoed smoothly around the walls of the cavern. A large round woman stepped out of the darkness. She was dressed in robes of sail canvas and woven rope with several bracelets and necklaces that clicked together as she walked up to the edge of the pool. Her skin was well weathered and a medium brown with her wild white hair tangled and untamed around her head. But her wild gray eyes were what made her look both older and younger than she outwardly appeared.

The Sea Hag smiled, her white teeth slightly pointed, “A little merling who has come to the Sea Hag to ask for aid. Pains of the heart child? I have cures for them all.”

Kneeling down, the Sea Hag held out one hand to James. Her smile and soft words drawing him in.

His heart was so heavy, dragged down by sorrow and pain and fear. He wanted to be happy, but James no longer knew what would make him happy. It would be so much easier to just let it all go, to get the ocean waves soothe the burn with its cool embrace.

James slowly raised his hand, reaching out to the Sea Hag.

“Stop right there Haggy!” Pietro shouted, appearing with a pop and pointing finger guns at the Sea Hag.

James jumped as his siblings appeared and jerked his hand away, swimming over to take Wanda’s hand, who held tight to Pietro’s shoulder, and united the Power of Three.

“Ahh witches,” the hag said with a sigh, straightening and giving them a thoughtful look, “no doubt here to banish the evil hag and stop her reign of terror over the helpless little mermaids.”

“Ahh well we-“ Wanda mumbled awkwardly.

“I think you will find the truth is far from your fairy tales. Mia? Could you come here a moment, dear?” The Sea Hag said, her smile still soft though her tone becoming lightly mocking.

“Yes, my love? My darling, my one and only heart?” Chirped a bright happy voice as a young woman with long simmering brown hair, soft brown skin and bright brown eyes pranced out of the dark cave and flung herself around the Sea Hag’s neck. She was a good head and a half taller and her scantily clad body was heavily muscled and scattered with golden scales that matched the gills on her throat. “Are these witches bothering my darling Zilla?” She crooned, curling one of her fingers through a lock of the Sea Hag’s wild hair.

“No we-“ Pietro stammered, putting up his hands quickly.

“Because then I would have to follow the traditions of my mer-ancestors and drown a bitch,” Mia hissed, clenching her fists and giving the Charmed Ones a death glare.

“As you can see, my relationship with the merfolk is far more…. Companionable than what your spell books have told you,” the Sea Hag purred, stroking her lover’s arms to calm her.

James blinked at the couple and turned to look at his siblings. “Did we just crash these nice lesbians love cave?” He asked, taking his hand back to massage at his temples.

“We are the Charmed Ones and we are not here to fight you, if you are not going to fight us,” Wanda attempted to clarify, “we have information that a group of demons known as Hydra is targeting you in attempts to take control of the underwater realm and the oceans of earth.”

“Oh,” Mia said, her hostility immediately falling away, “that’s different then. Aww how sweet, Zilla they came to warn us!”

“The Charmed Ones came all this way to warn little old me,” Zilla said thoughtfully, eyes straying towards James. “Well mission successful, I will strengthen my defenses and Mia will warn the mer-community.”

“Great!” Pietro said happily, turning toward his brother in the pool, “see James, you did not have to be a merman for very long at…. Why are you still a merman?”

James blinked and slowly looked down through the water at his tail

“James? James, take my hand,” Wanda said, kneeling down and reaching out to her brother.

“No,” James said softly, floating out of reach.

“The ocean’s call,” Mia said softly, “the cold waters are turning his heart to ice.”

“James gets out of the water!” Pietro shouted, flinging out his hand too.

“No!” James shouted, swimming away from the witches, “I don't want to! The water makes all the pain go away!”

“You have to fight it!” Wanda yelled, tears gathering in her eyes as she clutched at the edge of the pool.

“I don't want to fight,” James said softly, giving the Halliwells a tired smile, “I never did.”

“James!” The twins screamed as their brother slipped beneath the waves and disappeared.

“Get him back!” Wanda sobbed, turning on the Sea Hag and grabbing the front of her dress, “get him back right now!”

Zilla sadly shook her head.

“The only thing more powerful than the call of the sea is love,” Mia said softly, gently prying Wanda’s hangs away. “My desire to experience love brought me to Zilla and my love for her allows me to stay.”

“Your brother is hurting because of love,” Zilla murmured, wiping away the redhead’s tears. “Until he stops running from that pain, there is nothing we can do. Help him accept it and he will return to you.”

“How can we help him,” Pietro snapped, his own tears making quiet plopping noises as they fell into the cave’s pool, “he is gone!”

-

Steve was pacing outside the front door when the Halliwell twins returned to the manor, pounding on their door as soon as he felt them in the house.

“Not now, Steve,” Wanda said tiredly as she opened the door.

“Not now? Then when? When James’s presence fades completely? What the hell happened!” Steve snapped.

“Did you really turn James into a mermaid?” Sam asked, coming out of the dining room with a sandwich on a plate and a glass of milk.

Pietro frowned at their friend, “you made yourself a sandwich but left Steve on the porch?”

“It ain’t my fault he doesn’t have a spare key,” Sam said with a shrug.

“Come in,” Wanda said with a sigh, letting Steve storm past her into the manor.

After satisfying himself that James truly wasn’t with his siblings, the whitelighter put his hands on his hips and turned to stare at the sheepish twins. “You let him in the ocean, didn’t you.”

“We had a mission,” Wanda offered meekly.

Steve groaned and put his face in his hands.

“I’m guessing that’s bad,” Sam said, setting his lunch aside.

“He swam off, said he did not want to come home,” Pietro whispered, his fingers twisting and tapping restlessly.

“Yeah, that’s not good,” Sam concluded, “how do we get him back.”

“He has to want to come back,” Wanda explained, trying and failing to keep her tears in check and not really caring that she was crying in front of the man she had yelled at the night before. “To face his…. Pain, instead of hiding from it in the ocean.”

Letting out a slow breath, Steve lowered his hands to press against his lips and looked up at the fiery red haired witch. “I’ll talk to him,” he said, gently.

“Yeah, not sure that’s the best idea.” Sam drawled, giving Steve a look, “despite, what I am sure are your best efforts, you caused some of that pain.”

“I know,” Steve murmured, slowly walking back to the front doors, “which is why I have to be the one to do this.”

Wanda caught the whitelighter’s arm, squeezing it tightly as he turned to face her. “Please,” she begged, “please bring him home.”

Gently easing her hand off his arm, Steve gave it a soft squeeze and looked her in the eye. “I will.”

Wanda clutched at her arms as she watched Steve leave, her heart in turmoil. A knock on the living room window a few moments caused her to frown and quickly cross to it, part the curtains and pull it open.

“And I told you so,” Steve said solemnly from outside the window.

Letting out a choked laugh, Wanda managed a small smile as Steve disappeared in a swirl of white lights.

-

James was in heaven. If heaven was full of water and cute little seashells and adorable little sea creatures that he got to play with all day long. Distantly he remembered that heaven was far less magical, somewhere white and full of pain, but the memory was quickly washed away by the cool ocean waters.

Giggling as a lemon shark nuzzled up against him, demanding more pets, James was happier than he cared to remember being.

Until the blinding white lights appeared in front of him. They swirled through the water, startling his eyes that had been used to the dim depths of the ocean. He distantly remembered them, remembered that they were important, but he couldn’t quite place it.

But they seemed friendly enough, darting playfully around the bright bunches of coral that dotted the reef that James had been playing in. Enchanted by them, James followed. Zigzagging around the coral and weaving through a kelp forest, the light zipped along the bottom before arching upwards into the underwater cave that James had claimed at his own and started storing his shinies in.

Bursting out of the water, James clapped his hand in the air laughing as he tried to catch the lights. But they were too fast, swirling out of his reach.

They swirled in one place on the dry stone of the cave floor and solidified into a tall blond man with a beard and dark blue eyes.

Steve.

All the darkness, all the pain that the ocean waters had washed away came flooding back. James dove back under the water.

“Please just wait! Hear me out and you’ll never have to see me again!” Steve shouted, his voice only just reaching James under the water.

And he hesitated. Floating closer to the surface but keeping his face turned towards the depths, James hesitated.

“I know how tempting it is to let your heart grow cold,” Steve called, kneeling on the edge of the pool and looking at the dark shaping under the water. “To hide from the pain and let the ice protect you from ever being hurt again. The person I lost would have wanted me to be happy, I know that now. But I let my heart freeze and when I met you, and felt your warmth, I lashed out and took the pain I was hiding from out on you.”

Swallowing down the lump of guilt in his throat, Steve forced himself to keep going. “And I am so, so, sorry, I know I will never be able to make it up to you. To take away the pain I caused.”

Steve swallowed again, gathering all the courage he had in his heart to keep going, to keep talking. To let Bucky go and admit what had grown in his heart when he wasn’t looking. “But I like you. More than I should. And I don't want to cause you any more pain. So please, let me take you home, to Pietro and Wanda. And you’ll never have to see me again.”

Slowly, a hand with blue scales scattered across it and a soaked gray and black flannel shirt clinging to its wrist, raised up out of the water.

Steve gently took James’s hand and orbed him home, slipping him into the huge bathtub pocket dimension he had sensed in the manor’s second floor bathroom.

And then he left.

James stayed submerged in the disgustingly saltless bathwater for a moment, making sure that the whitelighter had truly gone before he started to cry. His hot tears put a little salt into the water but it was a lost cause.

James slowly stopped crying, as this thought floated across his mind. He could put salt back into the bathwater, he couldn’t put back what had been lost. Maybe it was time to find joy in the new waters he floated in.

A few of the cracks in James’s heart slowly started to heal. Not filled and covered over by ice, but slowly mended by kind words and a gentle hand reaching out to him.

James gripped the edge of the porcelain tub, pulling himself up as the scales of his tail faded away and the gills on his throat closed. A great deal of water splashed onto the tile floor as James struggled out of the water and found his siblings wide eyed at the door, having been summoned by the noise with Alpine howling his disapproval from between their legs.

Grunting as the twins hurled themselves at him, James put up with their tight hugs and worried chatter as neither took it upon themselves to lecture him. At least for tonight.

“You are soaked and freezing! Come on, we will get you changed and warmed up. Pietro will make your favorite food in bed, won't he? Pietro?” Wanda murmured, hands fluttering across James’s soaked clothing while ignoring the water getting on her own.

Pietro was staring at James with an odd look on his face. “Your shirts,” he said, voice shaking as he tried not to laugh. “They fused together.”

Sure enough the black and gray flannel Wanda had given James when he first transformed had been combined with the red Henley he had been wearing before they cast the spell. The shirt now had patches of red dotted throughout the flannel and one sleeve was entirely red.

“We should frame it,” James said softly, indulging his younger brother with a tired smirk. “‘James’s first monster romp’”

Pietro squealed in delight, stripping the wet shirt off and running out of the room with it.

Wanda stayed, helping James dry off with a subdued smile before picking Alpine up so he could investigate the demon witch without getting a paw wet. “Are you really ok?”

Pulling the towel over his head, James nodded, then let the towel fall around his neck so he could look his sister in her eye. “Yeah, I think I really am.”

“I am glad,” she said softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her brother's ear, “even if it is because of Rogers.”

Shooing Wanda downstairs, James walked into his bedroom and leaned heavily against its closed door. He let his head roll to look at the drawing of Stevie on his side table.

“Everything you did, you did to make sure I would be happy one day, after you were gone,” he told it softly, “I don't know why I forgot that. All those talks we had when the pneumonia was high, all the drawings you made in case I had to leave.”

Walking slowly, James sat on the edge of his bed and lifted the framed drawing. “Did you ever think we would grow old together? Or did you just revel in each moment we had, never daring to waste a single one?”

Setting the drawing down, James pulled his phone out of his pocket. Pulling it out of the dive case, the demon witch plugged it in and watched the screen light back up. Swiping away the panicked texts from his siblings trying to get him to leave the ocean and come home, James opened a chat screen.

 **James:** the person I lost would want me to be happy too

Across town, Steve paused from stuffing what little he owned into a bag and slowly lifted his phone. Braced himself for the harsh, dismissive words he knew he deserved. And smiled at what he read, a moment of hope blossoming in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!!!!! Bucky's costume is a mermaid.


	13. The Legend of Pajama-ed Halliwell

James bounced on the balls of his feet and buried his cold nose in the collar of his faux fur lined jacket. Sam sure was taking forever to get here, the farmer’s market had opened ten minutes ago. James wanted to get through the stalls and make his purchases before the late Sunday sleepers filled the street.

“James!”

Seeing Steve waving at him from across the street, as he waited for the crosswalk signal to change, wasn’t a surprise for the demon witch as Sam had already told him the whitelighter was coming along. Seeing Steve with no Sam in sight, was surprising.

“Sam got called into work,” Steve explained, his warm breath making puffy clouds in the cold air as he half jogged up, “something about a paperwork mix up, hope you don't mind.”

James kept his shoulders hunched to keep his nose in his jacket’s warmth and shyly shook his head, getting a huge smile from the bearded blond that seemed to shine brighter than the sun in the cold clear blue sky above them.

“Here,” James said as they turned and walked into the row of white easy-ups set over folding tables and handed the whitelighter several woven shopping bags, “Wanda gave me a list.”

The witch and whitelighter hadn’t been alone together since the merman incident, through no fault of either of them. Work had been busy at SHIELD and James had thrown himself into Hydra research, desperate to get ahead of their rising enemy.

The uncomfortable silence between the pair faded surprisingly quickly under the quiet background noise of the market and faint warmth of the autumn sun. Eventually they began to talk quietly, discussing what produce to buy, which ritual candles would be best and offering more and more outrageous interpretations of Pietro’s terrible handwriting.

“Oh look,” James murmured, pointing to a small booth selling handmade gloves and hats, “I haven’t knitted in months,”

“You knit?” Steve asked, tilting his head and giving James a soft smile. As if he couldn’t quite believe that the witch was this adorable.

“Yeah well, mostly socks. Money was pretty tight back in the day and it was a useful skill.” James said with a shrug, tugging off one of his gloves to slide the back of his fingers across a folded hat. He started and took a firmer hold of it. “What is this made out of? It’s so soft!”

“Cashmere and silk,” the stall owner said helpfully, smiling broadly from over hearing James’s confession, “it's great to meet another guy who knits,”

The witch laughed, shrugging off the compliment. “I don't think I’ve ever touched cashmere before, much less silk!”

Steve hummed softly, head still tilted as he took stock of the slight shiver that went through the witch as he tugged at the collar of his coat again. Casting about, the whitelighter smiled and picked up a rich blue colored scarf made of the same impossibly soft fiber blend as the hat and wrapped it around James’s neck.

“Perfect,” Steve murmured, holding the end of the scarf for a moment longer, standing close to James for a moment longer, staring down into his wide blue eyes for a moment longer. Turning to look at the stall owner who looked like Christmas had come early this year, Steve nodded decisively. “We’ll take it.”

“You two make such a cute couple,” the owner gushed, taking Steve’s money as they both ignored James’s spluttering protests, “it’s like a real world Hallmark movie, enjoy your date!”

James fell silent and buried his cold nose in the soft scarf, letting Steve steer him out of the market and into a park nearby.

Hidden in a small gazebo surrounded by late turning maple trees, their red leaves surrounding them, Steve set the bags down and tugged slightly at the end of the scarf. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he said softly, readjusting the soft blue to better bundle up the long-haired demon witch.

Thankful to the cold as an excuse for the redness of his cheeks, James blinked up at the blond through his eyelashes. “What if I want it to mean something.”

Slowly, Steve reached up and cupped James’s cheek in his bare hand. Even without gloves the whitelighter’s hands were impossibly warm, their rough calluses grounding James, reminding him this was real. But the whitelighter went no further, smiling slightly as he waited the witch out.

Cold chapped lips turning down into a pout, James balanced on his toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. He was no stranger to kissing but to kiss a man half a head taller than him, with his beard scratching against James’s face… Well, it was very different from the kisses he had had over 70 years ago.

Pulling away a moment later, James’s eyes darted about nervously. He saw the softness in the whitelighter’s dark blue eyes, the impossibly fond smile on his lips before his vision was obscured as Steve leaned forward and kissed the witch’s forehead.

Suddenly surrounded by the warmth of the blond, James leaned forward, not letting Steve get away. He buried his cold nose into the collar of the blond’s turtleneck and inhaled the spicy scent of him. Like nutmeg and honey.

Blushing at the soft laugh he earned for his greediness, James cuddled closer for a moment before pulling away and trying to regain his cool image. Glancing sideways and shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather and fur lined jacket, James jerked his head back towards the market. “Come on, lists not done yet.”

“Ok,” Steve whispered, leaning forward to a hair's breadth away from the wide eyed brunette as he stooped to retrieve the shopping bags. Pulling away with a teasing smile, the whitelighter offered his elbow to James.

Putting on that adorable little pout again, James tried to act reluctant to take Steve’s arm but quickly found himself pressing into the blond’s warmth.

-

Balancing heavy grocery bags, James kicked the manor’s front door shut and leaned against it, giving a soft sigh and sliding down it. The warmth of the manor seeped into him, stinging his cold nose and making his winter leather jacket uncomfortably hot.

“You should have invited him in,” Wanda called from where she and Pietro had been conspicuously watching their older brother through the lace curtains take nearly twenty minutes to walk up the dozen steps from the sidewalk to the front porch.

James’s chill pinked cheeks turned red and he primly set his heavy bags on the entryway table before turning his attention to his heavy jacket. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about.”

“Mmhmm,” Pietro said, walking out of the living room, still in his race car pajamas, and fingered the cobalt colored scarf wrapped around his older brother’s neck, “I do not remember you leaving the house wearing this.”

Abandoning his pride, James dumped his coat over his little brother’s head and crossed his arms sulkily. “Don’t you two stand there and act like you didn’t tell Sam to cancel on me so Steve and I would have to go to the farmer’s market alone!”

“You’re welcome,” Sam said, walking out of the kitchen with a mug of hot cocoa and sporting his own pair of falcon patterned pajamas.

“Did you get dressed, drive all the way over here just to change back into pajamas and lounge around our house?” James grumbled, accepting his jacket back as Pietro pulled it off his head and started snooping through the groceries.

Smirking as he took a long slow sip of hot cocoa, Sam nodded. “You bet your ass I did.”

Wanda giggled as she appeared in her pink pajamas decorated with little black cats in witches’ hats and Alpine in her arms. Handing the cat to James, she walked to the front door and called out to the loitering whitelighter. “We are having a pajama party if you want to join in!”

Bouncing up the stairs, Steve was even more delighted to feel the whitelighter blocking barrier around the house to pass him by without an invitation through the door. “Only if you’re sure,” he said, aiming his words at James who blushed again.

“It’s a Sunday tradition,” James said, reclaiming his primness as he cradled Alpine in his arms and gave him tummy rubs.

The twins and Sam managed to suppress the urge to make fun of the shy looks passing between the demon witch and whitelighter and made themselves busy putting the groceries away.

“Go change,” Wanda insisted, pushing James and Steve towards the staircase, “and get Mr. Rogers some proper clothes too!”

Giggling and stumbling, the pair didn’t make it very far up the stairs before Pietro came running, sliding down the wood floored hall with his toe socks to point suspiciously at the pair. “But no funny stuff!” He shouted.

“Pietro!” James gasped, fanning his blushing face with the hand not holding onto Alpine. Turning away, the witch yelped as he very nearly ran into Erik Lehnsherr.

“Father?” Pietro asked in surprise as the others hurried into the hall. “Oh no! No, no, no! It’s Sunday! Pajama day! No missions!!”

“I am sorry, Pietro,” Erik said, stepping to one side and revealing the open door to Magic School. The older witch’s hair was in disarray and there were dark circles under his eyes. “But this can’t wait. Hydra has infiltrated Magic School.”

-

‘Can’t wait’ apparently was literal as the twins and Sam found themselves standing in the drafty halls of magic school, enchanted to go on for nearly forever, in their pajamas and novelty bedroom slippers.

James was a bit too smug for their liking as he stood dressed in his normal Henley and jeans with his brand-new scarf and Alpine wrapped around his neck. Steve managed not to look smug in his street clothes, but it was a near thing.

“How do you know Hydra is here?” Sam asked, accepting a school issue black robe with a wrinkle of his nose as he tried to decide if looking like a Harry Potter character was better or worse than the cold draft.

“There has been disturbing graffiti appearing for the past month,” Charles Xavier explained in his calming deep voice, using his telepathy to move his wheelchair over to a table covered in books and levitated a folder from the bottom of the pile into his hand. He moved back to the group and handed the SHIELD agent the file before taking his husband Erik’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“This kind of thing happens every few years,” Erik continued, running a hand through his hair, making it stand even more on end, “teens acting out and all that. We do everything we can to get them the help and support they need but sometimes they just need to get the rebelliousness out of their system until they are ready to accept help.”

“What made this time different?” Steve asked, accepting the file from Sam, noting the tension that had appeared in his partner.

“Nothing at first,” Charles murmured then shook his head, “but things started to escalate. Red paint became animal blood, general statements because specific threats. Then we found the summoning circle.”

Steve frowned at the photos of scrawled slurs and threats before finding the mentioned circle. Taking the photo out, he handed it to the Halliwells that gathered together to examine it.

“Definitely demonic, but too vague to tell if it is Hydra.” James said, handing the photo back.

“What else would it be,” Sam grumbled, tugging at the sleeves of his robe.

“My point exactly, we aren't lucky enough for it to be anything else,” Tony Stark grumbled, walking into the study with two others following close behind him.

“Mr. Halliwell!” Peter Parker shouted excitedly, running across the room to throw his arms around James and chatter about all the things he was learning at the school.

“Vis!” Wanda said in delight, moving away from her siblings.

James did a double take at the sight of his sister’s affection. “That’s Vision?” He asked, staring at the red skinned humanoid with a yellow gem set into his forehead.

“Yes,” Wanda said crisply, taking Vision’s hand and glaring back at her older brother. “What did you think I meant when I said techno magic android.”

“I thought ‘what the hell is technomagic’ and “does she mean android android or is that internet slang?’” James said, rolling his eyes at his sister’s overprotective nature rearing this head. “Relax, sis I’m just surprised."

“You better be,” Wanda grumbled, relaxing as James’s expression remained open as Vision put his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

“I promise to yell ‘that’s Clint?’ When Pietro finally introduces us,” James said with a smile as he shook Vision’s hand.

“Can I get in on that?” Erik asked with a slight smile.

James laughed before remembering that it was his stepfather that he was laughing with and fell silent.

“So what’s the plan Cap,” Tony asked, elbowing Steve.

“Ok gang, lets slip up and look for clues!” Steve said, over eager voice dripping in sarcasm.

Erik opened his mouth but was cut off by James turning and quickly walking away as he called over his shoulder. “Great! I’m going alone!”

“James don’t-” someone called but it was too late, the demon witch had slipped down one of the enchanted hallways and was halfway across the school in the twinkling of an eye.

When he was sure he was alone, James stopped walking and let out a loud groan and pressed his hands into his eyes. He had managed to avoid the premonition he had gotten when entering Magic School of being stuck searching the grounds with his stepfather, but now what.

Bitter frustration bubbled up in James’s chest as he pushed his feet to take another step. Every damn day it seemed like they were finding out another safe haven had been infiltrated by Hydra, by evil. Half of him didn’t even want to look for the demon, what did it matter? Hydra would just come back stronger.

Alpine yowled in James’s ear, making him jump.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” the demon witch grumbled, giving the angry cat several soothing pets before sighing and pressing his hand to the cool stone wall of the hallway as he rounded the corner.

“Got you!” Shrieked a voice as a huge butterfly net came down on James’s head.

The second the net hit his head, a current ran through James’s body, freezing his muscles.

“The fuck are you doing!” James hissed through his clenched teeth as Alpine started screaming his displeasure of being covered in a net.

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry!” Peter squeaked, scrambling to remove the butterfly net he had captured James in.

Beside him Tony and a young girl, with the same brown hair and laugh as her daddy, cackled at seeing one of the great Charmed Ones suck in a butterfly net.

“I am so, so, so, so-“ Peter babbled, stumbling over himself but finally getting the net off.

“The hell is that thing?” James demanded, cutting Peter off before the teen could really get going. He shuddered as the electricity vanished and his muscles unlocked, quickly putting a hand up to keep Alpine from launching himself with claws outstretched at those who dared to disrespect his feline majesty.

“It’s a portable demon trap,” Tony said between laughs, lifting his daughter, Morgan, onto his shoulders and taking a walkie talkie from her to show James. “And portable tracker, we tried to tell you not to go alone. Thought you were the Hydra demon.”

Giving the whitelighter and young witches an entirely affronted snort, James turned away and, head held high, walked off down another corridor.

“Take that!”

James let out another shout as a second net came down on his head as Sam and Steve.

“Oh, come on!” James shouted as Tony and Morgan once again dissolved into laughter.

“We tried to tell you not to go alone!” Sam yelled, feeling no sympathy and not helping a very apologetic Steve untangle the demon witch for a second time.

Growling and muttering forced PG curse words, James stumbled backwards out of the net and then yelped as Pietro and Wanda very nearly caught him for a third time, Vision, Erik and Charles hurrying up behind them.

“Perhaps it would be best if you came with me, James,” Charles said, rolling forward and giving James a reassuring smile.

“I don’t-“ Erik started to say but was quickly cut off.

“Sure,” James blurted out, quickly walked towards and past Charles, hoping the headmaster would follow him.

The magic hallway soon twisted away from the other demon hunters and silence fell around the two men.

“I thought,” Charles murmured, finally breaking the somewhat awkward quiet…

Letting out a loud sigh, James let his head fall back and glared at the vaulted ceiling that was both visible and extending on forever. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t want to talk.”

Chuckling, Charles shook his head slightly and gave the demon witch his eternally patient smile. “I thought you might be more comfortable directing your questions to me rather than my husband.”

James screwed up his face, longing not to have this conversation. “Who says I have questions?”

Speeding up slightly, Charles stopped in front of James, forcing him to face the headmaster. “You have barely spoken to Erik and your siblings have confessed that you have not talked to them about their father. You have questions, it is whether or not you want them answered.”

“I didn’t need my first father to grow up,” James snapped, glaring at the ground in front of Charles, unwilling to look him in the eye, “I sure as hell don’t need a second one. And obviously mom agreed since her baby daddy got married to another man.”

Waiting to make sure James was finished with his outburst, Charles rubbed one finger against the band of his wedding ring. “I do still wonder how much of George’s betrayal affected your mother’s decisions but that wasn’t why she pushed for us to get married.”

Forgetting himself for a moment, James looked up, eyes wide. “She pushed for you two to get hitched?” Realizing he had asked a question, James quickly looked away and folded his arms across his chest, “not that I care, because I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Charles agreed, turning away and starting to roll down the hallway again, “but you would be happy to humor an old man taking a walk down memory lane, wouldn’t you?”

“Well it’s not like we have anything better to do,” James muttered, lifting Alpine down to sit on Charles’s lap and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I won’t bore you with all the details,” the older witch murmured after a moment, stroking down Alpine’s soft white fur, “but it all started with the battle that left me in this chair. Erik blamed himself and left Magic School for the mortal realm where he met your mother. Winifred was still hurting over losing you and together rebuilt their hearts. They loved each other, in their own ways, but Erik remained conflicted over his love for your mother and for me. When Winifred found out she was pregnant Erik and I had begun to reconcile. She encouraged him to return to me, and I will forever be in her debt for that.”

James made a quiet noise, throwing his shoulders back and thinking ‘damn straight’

Smiling, either guessing or perhaps reading James’s thoughts, Charles continued. “We had no idea she was with child, she didn’t want us to know. But when her whitelighter found out, he went against her wishes and confronted Erik, condemning him for abandoning his children and dooming Winifred to single motherhood.”

“Oh, so whitelighters have always been dicks to my family,” James spat, glaring over his shoulder as if to project his words to any nearby angels. “Good to know.”

“Winifred started the family tradition of firing whitelighters,” Charlies continued with a sympathetic nod, “she was furious that Erik found out. Even angrier when Erik tried to do right by her.”

James stumbled over his feet, staring at the telepath, “he did?”

Charles nodded, smile widening slightly, “I’ll never forget that day, all three of us arguing over who got to sacrifice their happiness for the other. Your mother, bless her, finally shouted ‘well if that’s how we feel why don’t we just share Erik!’ And all I could think was to yell back ‘I don’t know! That sounds like a wonderful idea!’”

Unable to stop the snort of laughter, James shook his head as his hunched shoulders finally relaxed. “Sharing? Is that even a thing?”

“Polyamory,” Charlies said with a nod, looking pleased at James relaxing, “Erik loves his children more than anything, loves being involved in their and their mother’s lives as well as mine. We five were an odd family but a happy one.”

“Sounds nice,” James murmured, feeling a bubble of longing and bitter regret rising in the back of his throat.

Growing serious, Charles looked up and James, “it would be nicer if we were allowed to welcome our missing family member back home.”

“Mom is dead, she’s not coming back,” James growled back.

“I’m not talking about Winifred.”

Swallowing down the jumble of emotions stuck in his throat, James hurried forward, snapping breathlessly. “How fucking long is this hallway.”

Charles said nothing but mentally called up the magic of his school and gave the demon witch a way out.

They emerged from the long hallway into an antechamber that led to several classrooms. James continued to glare at the walls and Charles, with a quiet sigh, lifted his magic walky-talky to check in with the others.

The buzz of faraway voices reporting no luck in finding the Hydra demon faded away as James stared at one of the classroom doors. While the physics of Magic School were all kinds of messed up, this door specifically, seemed very out of place. Like it didn’t belong with the others. Like it was supposed to be hidden.

James didn’t hear Charles’s yell as he walked towards the door, didn’t feel the telepathic witch’s magic try to pull him back as he reached for the knob. He didn’t understand why, but he had to go into that room.

“You’re not the demon I summoned,” murmured the cold voice from the man inside. He was shorter than James with short brown hair, dark circles under his eyes and a faint accent. He had a battered ring bound notebook in one hand while the other was clenched into a fist dripping blood onto a single sputtering candle in the center of a chalk circle.

James frowned and blinked, the spell over him quickly fading.

“It doesn’t matter,” the man muttered, opening his clenched hand, and revealing the deep gash across the palm that was still bleeding, he tore the top sheet of paper out, “you will do.”

“How did you,” James mumbled, shaking his head to try and clear it,

 _“Longing, rusted, seventeen,”_ the man said, letting the flame of the candle catch the edge of the paper as he read the Russian words scrawled on it.

Choking at hearing those words, the words last spoken by his father, spoken and used to bind James against his will, the demon witch staggered back in horror.

 _“Daybreak, furnace, nine,”_ the man continued, unfazed by the fear he was causing.

Feeling the curse’s power rising around him again, James made a run for it, tugging uselessly on the locked doorknob.

 _“Benign, homecoming, one_ ” the man said, his emotionless monotone nearly as terrifying as the words it intoned.

“Please! Don’t do this!” James shouted, clawing at the collar of his shirt with one hand, trying to fight the invisible forced wrapping around it and stealing away his free will.

_“Freight car.”_

James’s eyes closed.

The winter soldier blinked, ice creeping up it’s left arm as it fell away from the door knob. Turning to face its master, the soldier grunted out its words. _“Ready to comply.”_

Dropping scrap of paper as it vanished into a swirl of ash, the man stared at the demon before him, the demon he controlled. Taking a steadying breath, Helmut Zemo nodded and gave his orders. “Kill the whitelighters, start with Anthony Stark and Steven Rogers.”

-

The winter soldier blinked and swayed, considering the orders. Then its hand flashed out, hurling a spear of ice towards the back of the room.

A second soldier staggered out of the shadows, its skin a pale blue now spattered with black blood from the ice that had run it through. It fell forward and exploded into shards of ice that quickly faded out of existence.

If Zemo was fazed by the destruction of the demon he had actually summoned to Magic School a few days prior, and then immediately lost track of, he didn’t show it. Turning back to glare at his soldier, the human pointed towards the door. “Go!”

Slowly, the soldier turned and tugged open the door, leaving a swirl of ice spreading out from its touch on the wood.

Zemo followed the Winter Soldier as it moved silently through the halls of Magic School, driven onward by some internal compass. Privately, he was excited to see the demon destroy the object of his hatred, the cause of his anger and carefully kept the soldier in sight while remaining well out of its way.

Tony managed to dodge the first spear of ice thrown at his head, falling sideways and grabbing at Morgan and Peter before orbing away.

“James! What the hell!” Pietro yelled, back pedaling away from the spear and the ice spreading out from it.

The soldier didn’t show any recognition to its name and turned toward a different hallway, intending to continue the hunt, growling. “Whitelighters”

“He is being controlled again,” Wanda gasped, grabbing her twin’s hand and running forward away from her fathers.

“No don’t!” Erik yelled, stopping his children from reaching out and grabbing their brother. “His powers have grown, his touch will freeze you solid” he said, eyeing the blue layer of frost that now covered James’s skin.

The soldier turned back. It would deal with these interlopers and continue its mission uninhibited by their meddling.

“What are you doing? Kill the whitelighters!” Zemo snapped, reinforcing his orders as he came out of the shadows.

“Zemo?” Charles gasped, “you did this?”

“I had no choice,” Zemo hissed, clenching his hands and causing more blood to ooze from his cut. “My family is dead because of whitelighter scum! The Elders are too dangerous to be allowed to rule over us. I will do whatever it takes to stop them all. Soldier, kill them all!”

“You will not order him,” Erik snarled, face twisted in rage and stepping in front of his family. “You will not hurt my son with your blood lust!”

Raising his hands, Erik called up his power. The metal orbs forming bracelets around his wrists floated up and away from his skin, twisting and rippling as they turned into something new. One thinned to slim cords, weaving themselves together and shooting out to wrap around James, gently but securely bringing him down and binding him to the ground. The second shot out, slamming into Zemo without mercy.

The human tried to defend himself, pulling out different charms from his pockets and yelling at the soldier to get up and fight. He finally fell silent as the metal orbs melted together into one large fist then slammed into his jaw and knocked him to the ground.

Even as its master was taken out, the Winter Soldier continued to twist and writhe against its bonds, headless of the blood it drew when the metal cords cut into its skin. It growled as the witches approached him, murmuring softly.

The cords thickened and tightened as Charles leaned forward in his chair and held his hands on either side of James’s head, careful not to touch his icy skin. The telepathic witch closed his eyes and focused on reaching out while keeping his mind on the warm hands of his family on his shoulders and sending James their strength.

Nothing happened for a moment then James gasped, choked and screamed until he had no breath left to scream. In an instant he was engulfed by four sets of arms, warming his skin as the ice of the demon side withdrew. Still yelling, still fighting because he was too afraid to stop, James vaguely heard the sounds of running, the distant voices of people he knew. He fought harder, there were too many loved ones here, too many people he would kill unless he broke free from his father’s curse.

Suddenly James’s head cleared completely and he gasped again, acutely aware of the large hand on his left shoulder and the soft glowing light emanating from it.

“James? Can you hear me?” Steve called, his face framed in between the worried looks of Pietro, Wanda, Erik and Charles.

“Yes,” James breathed, relaxing and feeling the metal bindings around him loosen and pull away. The demon witch watched with tired eyes as the metal wound back up into small orbs that reformed into bracelets and James gave a weak smile to Erik. “Thanks, Dad.”

The old German witch blinked in surprise then gave James the warmest, loved filled smile he had ever seen. “You are welcome, son.”

-

After getting looked over by both Steve and Tony, James sat ensconced in his siblings arms and watched as Helmut Zemo’s unconscious form was dragged off in chains. “What’s going to happen to him?” He asked softly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“He’ll face The Elder’s judgment,” Tony said uneasily.

James made an unhappy noise and pulled away from Wanda and Pietro to stand.

“He did brainwashed you into trying to murder everyone you knew,” Sam gently pointed out.

“I’m not saying using me for revenge was right,” James snapped, trying to focus his magic on summoning a door back home.

Tony swallowed hard and looked away as Sam’s eyes slid over to him.

“But killers judging the actions of killers isn’t right either,” James continued, giving a tired sigh and letting his outstretched hands fall as he gave up his spell. Turning his tired eyes towards his friends and family, the demon witch shook his head, quietly repeating. “It’s not right.”

“No it isn’t,” Tony said suddenly, clenching his fists, “fuck the greater good, this is wrong!”

“Fuck!” Morgan shrieked in delight, running around with her arms in the air repeating the new word she had learned.

“Pepper is going to kill me,” Tony said, staring wide eyed at his daughter.

Laughing, Sam caught Morgan. Sitting the little girl on his hip, the SHIELD agent clapped a hand on her father’s shoulder, a proud smile on his lips. “I'll talk to her, something tells me you are going to have your hands full for a while.”

Hope wormed its way into James’s heart as he watched the determination in Tony’s eyes beginning to burn. But worry followed soon after and he frowned as Erik and the twins crossed to his side.

“Stop that,” Erik murmured, ducking slightly to look into James’s light blue eyes, “you have your own destiny to fret over, leave this worry to us.”

“I have enough worry and power for both,” James said with an attempt of a smile, “so don’t you go skipping our invitation to that party.”

Smiling proudly as he gazed at his three children, his Charmed Ones, Erik clicked his finger and called up the door home. “Get some rest, we will be fighting sooner than later.”

The Charmed Ones bid their friends and family goodbye and slipped back into the Manor. Night had fallen in the mortal realm and slowly the three picked up from their spoiled Sunday fun.

“Do you want us to stay with you?” Wanda asked, carefully watching James to catch if he lied to spare them.

Smiling slightly, the demon witch shook his head. “I’m ok, just going to watch a movie and get some rest. You two should go have fun.”

‘While you still can’ James thought, his worry bubbling back up in the back of his throat.

“Ok,” Pietro said, still a bit unconvinced but willing to take his older brother at his word. “I am going to meet Clint for his patrol. Be back for breakfast.”

“Vis asked me to a late dinner,” Wanda murmured blushing slightly and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I will be back in a few hours.”

“Sure you will!” Her brothers drawled with matching grins.

Wanda made sure to cuss her brothers out before shamelessly asking their opinion on which low cut dress she should wear and slipping back through the door to Magic School that none of them had gotten around to dismissing yet.

“Call if you need anything,” Pietro said, suddenly serious as he tugged on a dark silver jacket and his domino mask.

“If you get caught by SHIELD for being a vigilante I am not posting your bail,” James countered, but nodded his head.

James sighed as the pop of Pietro blinking away faded and the sounds of the manor filled his head. The quiet ticking of the grandfather clock, the faint gurgle of the water fountain in the conservatory, the purr of Alpine curled up on the couch in the living room.

The clock began to chime marking the time as 1 am Monday morning.

“Another day another demon,” James sighed, pressing his palms to the surface of the entryway table. He frowned a moment later as a quiet knock on the front door interrupting the sounds of peace in the manor. Cautiously, the demon witch went to answer the door.

“I know it’s not Sunday anymore,” Steve said softly, standing on the poach dressed in Captain America pajamas complete with matching tsum tsum slippers, “but can we still have pajama day?”

“Yes,” James said, voice shaking in his effort not to burst out laughing, “but only because I can’t be the bastard who left you wearing your own merch out in the cold to get mocked by the milkman.”

Quickly running upstairs to change into his white wolf pajamas, James came back down to find the opening credits to The Maltese Falcon rolling across the tv screen.

“I love this movie!” James said in delight, dispelling the slight worry that creased Steve’s face. Leaping over the back of the couch and pulling Alpine onto his lap, James quickly settled in by cuddling up to the blond’s smile, sighing contentedly as he felt the roughness of Steve’s beard as the blond pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Wanda found them there hours later, fast asleep as the quiet music of the main menu of the DVD repeated itself. Happy to see her brother smiling in his sleep, the red headed witch used her magic to waft a thick blanket over them and gently push them so they were laying down. Sending a quick text threatening her twin with death if he woke the pair before morning, Wanda headed off to bed.


	14. Babies' First Magic Road Trip

James blinked at the pulsing lights, the gyrating bodies twisting and turning together in a giant mass in time with the beat he could feel overtaking the beat of his own heart. Taking a slow sip of his neon colored drink and let the sickly-sweet burn slide across his tongue.

“Yeah, I don’t get it!” He yelled at Sam, his voice nearly lost in the music of the rave, “exactly what is the appeal of clubbing?”

“You just need to loosen up!” Sam yelled back, leaning close to James’s ear to be heard.

James turned and gave him a scathing look and gestured down at the tight fitted black t-shirt and leather pants that Pietro had forced him into a few hours ago before locking him out of the house so he couldn’t escape the ‘boys night out’. “And here I thought loose was no longer in fashion!”

Steve laughed listing sideways into James’s other side, the sound of it lost in the music but the puff of breath that crossed the witch’s face smelled of the Irish whiskey the blond had been drinking.

Sliding away from their small island on the side of the dance floor, Sam pointed at his eyes and then at James before turning and curling his hand around a stranger’s arm and was soon swaying in time with the beat.

James blinked, eyes bulging slightly at how close the two men were pressed as they ground into each other. Turning to look at Steve, who was enjoying the witch’s expression a little too much, James’s shout was a little strangled. “Is this even legal?!”

Steve laughed again and nodded. “It’s just dancing!”

Keeping his eyes averted from Sam, James was thankful the dark of the room hid the blush across his cheeks. “I know how to dance, that is not dancing!”

Clubbing was far from what James considered a good time, but he had promised his siblings he would try and have a good time when the agents had invited him out.

Steve tilted his head curiously and set his drink aside. “And how do you dance?”

“I swing,” James yelled, frowning and stepping closer to Steve as a drunk couple stumbled through their personal space.

“Really?!” Steve shouted, a huge smile spreading across his face and lighting up his eyes, “I love swing dancing!”

James suddenly found himself grinning too, delighted to finally find someone who was familiar with a piece of his past. Although, considering how old Steve really was, he supposed it was a piece of the blond’s past too.

With the sickly-sweet drink burning though his blood and taking away his lingering anxieties, James held out his hand to his whitelighter.

The music wasn’t great, but the timing was the same and Steve happily took the proffered hand and gently rested his other on James’s waist. With the witch’s hand on his shoulder, the whitelighter led them through a few basic steps in their small corner of the dance floor, getting a feel for James’s skill level and delighting at being able to twirl him with ease.

Their dance quickly got more complicated as the pair grew more confident with each other. James’s delighted laughs ringing in Steve’s ears as they kicked and turned and spun about. Oblivious to the crowd’s attention they were gaining, the two men danced their hearts out in each other’s arms.

Finally the song ended, turning to something with an incompatible beat for swing and they had to stop. Steve slowly raised James out of a dip, feeling as if his face would break with how large his smile was.

James’s eyes were dancing with happiness as his chest rose and fell from the exertion. He felt warm from the tips of his ears all the way to his toes and never wanted the moment to end.

“Mind if I cut in?” A lilting voice asked, causing both men to jump apart.

“Loki!” James gasped, blushing heavily at being caught by the trickster.

Loki was dressed as elegantly as ever, in tight green snakeskin pants, a thick faux fur coat, dripping in silver jewelry and sporting That smirk. The smirk that told James that the god knew exactly what was going on and that he had every intention of using that information to his advantage.

“Is there something I might do for you?” James asked, carefully choosing his words as his siblings warned him to do when offering aid to a creature from the magic dimension.

Loki’s smile wavered and he said nothing but held out one well manicure hand for the witch to take.

James reached out but was pulled away slightly as Steve tightened his grip on the hand he still held.

The whitelighter’s eyes were hard and suspicious as he glared at the dark-haired trickster that had interrupted them.

“It’s ok,” James called, pulling away from Steve with a reassuring smile and taking Loki’s hand. “Go find Sam, I’ll be back soon.”

Steve didn’t look reassured but quickly vanished from sight as Loki led James through the crowd and out onto a balcony of the club. Brunhilda was already there, glaring at anyone who tried to slip outside for a breath of fresh air. She stepped forward as the trickster and witch emerged and placed another thick fur coat around James’s shoulder to keep the November night air at bay.

“I thought you didn’t like whitelighters,” Loki purred, taking up a pair of champagne glasses set on a tall table near the edge of the balcony.

Taking the proffered glass but not drinking, James tilted his head and eyed the trickster. “I don’t, and neither does Steve.”

Giving a soft laugh, Loki nodded and took a drink. He waited until James had taken a sip before finally speaking his purpose. “I need your help.”

James paused and slowly lowered his glass. “I would be honored to offer aid to you, my friend.”

Loki snorted and waved his hand. “Speak plainly James, I have no intention of tricking you into agreeing to anything. This is far too big a favor for such low handed tactics.”

Relaxing as he was given the trickster’s word, James let his worry show on his face. “What happened? How can we help?”

“My sister is missing,” Loki said slowly, curling in on himself slightly, showing weakness he normally wouldn’t. “Well, adopted sister but that is beside the point. Thor and I have looked everywhere and found nothing.”

“How does a goddess go missing?” James asked, “I mean, I assume she’s a goddess,”

Giving the witch a small smile, Loki nodded. “Thor and Hela are gods, their parents adopted me and gave me some of my powers. And I don’t know why she has vanished or how. But if the news that the goddess of death and war has disappeared gets out... Well, let’s just say she is one of the main reasons peace between the magic dimensions has lasted as long as it has.”

James gave an impressed whistle and set his glass down. “You’re right, that’s bad. But if two gods can’t find her, what chance do witches have?”

Loki smiled again and cupped the side of James’s face in his hand. “When you are as old as I am, you tend to get stuck in your ways. Mortals have fresh eyes and fresh ideas. You see and feel the world differently from us, and don’t discount the Power of Three. Even together, my siblings and I would hesitate to confront you and yours.”

James found himself blushing slightly under the trickster’s praise and gave a shy smile. “We will meet you in Asgard in the morning,” he said softly, taking Loki’s hand from his cheek, pressing a kiss to the back of it and stroking softly with his thumb. “We will find her.”

Loki watched as the witch turned and left, letting his smile fade as James disappeared.

-

Steve passed his glass to his other hand, flexing the first to work out the tension that had gathered with how he had been clenching it. He knew Loki was a family friend of the Halliwells, but tricksters weren’t known for their loyalty. If Loki did anything to hurt James...

With a loud crack, the glass in Steve’s hand shattered. The whitelighter’s eyes flickered about to see if anyone had noticed then used his magic to mend the glass and bring it back to his hand. There was nothing he could do about the spilled liquor, so he set the glass aside and quickly moved away.

Sam appeared from out of the crowd and moved quickly to Steve’s side, his carefree attitude from earlier long since turned to worry. “I can’t find him, did Loki say what he wanted?”

Steve shook his head then sighed in relief as he spotted James a moment later. The witch looked worried but none the worse for wear. He shook his head as he approached and gestured for them to follow him in silence.

All three retrieved their coats and slipped out of the club into the quiet night air.

“Leave the car,” James said, grabbing his friends’ arms and pulling them down an alley, “we’ve got work to do.”

Shimmering back to the house, James ignored the dim, candle lit living room and the ornate door on the landing and rushed up the stairs yelling for his siblings pausing only long enough to pick Alpine up so he did not trip over the meowing white furred blur.

“James don’t!” Sam yelled after him as he took in the candles as well as a bouquet of red roses on the hall table and what looked very much like a bra on the back of the couch.

But it was too late. There was the sound of a door slamming open, a loud shriek followed by the sound of a door slamming shut and James’s footsteps coming back. The witch stumbled halfway down the stairs and turned to stare at his friends as Alpine kept going and disappeared into the living room. “Vision is here,” he said in a slightly choked voice.

Sam and Steve exchanged awkward looks.

“I’ll go get Pietro, shall I?” Steve offered,

“Remember to Knock,” James stressed, coming down the rest of the stairs.

Steve nodded, a smile twitching at his lips before orbing away.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES HALLIWELL!” Wanda screamed, her bedroom door crashing open again.

James scrambled across the landing and quickly hid behind Sam who rolled his eyes.

Literally glowing red with anger, Wanda stormed down the stairs, hair in disarray and dressed in a silk robe. In a far calmer manner, Vision followed her.

Vision, a one-of-a-kind mix of magic and artificial intelligence, had easily changed his appearance to include clothing and seemed unaffected by the interruption. He smiled warmly at Sam and gave him a polite nod.

“I am going to murder you!” Wanda hissed, rounding the bottom of the stairs.

“Please don’t,” Vision said softly, catching his girlfriend around her waist and pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“I am going to ward you out of the house!” Wanda snapped but didn’t try and escape Vision’s arms.

“I am sure he is very sorry,” Vision said, ducking down to kiss the witch’s neck.

“I am….. not making you breakfast!” Wanda tried, the red haze around her fading away.

Vision blinked and then looked over at James, who was still hiding behind Sam.

“I can live with that,” James said, mouthing thank you to Vision when Wanda wasn’t looking.

“I better get going,” Vision murmured, turning Wanda to face him and tilting her face up. He carefully kissed her pout away before heading back up the stairs and through the door to his home at Magic School.

Rounding on the boys in the hall, Wanda’s glare returned. “This had better be important.”

“Amen!” Grumbled Pietro as he and Steve appeared with a pop next to the redhead.

“It feels weird not coming in the front door,” Steve muttered absently, rubbing at his arms as he felt the house’s barrier slip past him painlessly.

Ignoring the whitelighter, James finally came out from behind Sam. “Well the goddess of death and war has gone missing so I’d say it’s probably pretty important.”

“Hela is missing?” Wanda gasped, irritation gone in a flash.

“Has anyone checked Odin’s prisons?” Pietro said in a tone that suggested a very dry inside joke.

“Oh dear, Thor must be going out of his mind,” Wanda murmured worriedly while aiming a hard punch to her twin’s arm.

“Waaaaait a minute,” Sam drawled, holding up his hands and grinning with growing excitement, “does this mean what I think it means?”

“That depends,” James said, slowly turning around with an extremely straight face, “do you think it means-“

“Magic road trip!” Both men shouted at the same time, jumping and giving each other a high five in midair.

“How are you two not married?” Pietro complained, poking at the spot he got punched.

“Friends before rear ends.” Sam quipped as James draped an arm over his shoulder and they both fist bumped, making explosion noises as they pulled their hands away.

“Disgusting,” Pietro grumbled.

-

The next morning’s early light saw Sam excitedly running up the steps of the Halliwell manor in front of a far less excited Steve who was nursing a very black cup of coffee.

“Come on, old man! We’re going on an adventure!” Sam called, doing a small jig on the porch holding his backpack straps.

“I’m wanted dead, not alive, in most of the magic dimensions. Plus, I’ve seen them all before. Excuse me for not being motivated.” Steve grumbled, taking another long sip of coffee.

“You don’t have to come,” James pointed out, sticking his head out as Sam opened the front door.

“No, no, I’m coming.” Steve said, downing the rest of his coffee and following his partner and boyfriend.

“Is everyone else ready to go?” Sam asked, setting his backpack on the kitchen table for James to paw through.

Adding a few potions, that would safely portal the moral back to the manor, alongside the vest of levitation that Sam had been practicing with for the past few months, James rolled his eyes and gave him a strained smile as answer.

“Has anyone seen my camera?” Pietro yelled as if on cue, blinking through the kitchen, conservatory and living room before vanishing back upstairs.

“You do not need your camera!” Wanda yelled back, coming in from the backyard with a fresh pumpkin and proceeded to try and shove it into Sam’s backpack. “This is a search and rescue mission, not a vacation!”

“I don’t think we need a pumpkin, dear,” James said gently, putting himself between the poor bag and his manic eyed sister.

“We might!” Wanda insisted, trying to squeeze around her brother and attack the bag again. “Who knows what evil could be powerful enough to kidnap a goddess!”

“I need my camera!” Pietro said, blinking back into the kitchen and leaning into the dining room. “It’s Sam and James’s first trip to the magic dimension! Cellphones just will not do!”

Sighing at the much put upon and pleading look James shot him, Steve stepped forward and snapped his finger. The pumpkin in Wanda’s hands was surrounded by orbs and shrank to the size of a cherry tomato and an old-style polaroid camera appeared in Pietro’s hands.

“Thank you,” James whispered as he helped his gob smacked siblings finish packing their bags.

“So how do we get to the magic dimension?” Sam asked, pulling on his vest and other protective charms and dumping the carefully stacked potion bottles to the bottom of his bag.

“We will be blinking, it is the most straightforward way to get in.,” Wanda told him, stomping into her combat boots and grabbing her red leather jacket.

Pietro flashed a V sign and then quickly took a picture of the group, doing a neat little trick of blinking fast enough to take and be in the picture without letting the camera drop. After safely tucking the camera in his bag, the silver haired witch held out his hands to the group, wiggling his fingers.

Wanda and James took their brother’s hands and Sam and Steve took hold of them. Pietro took a breath and then the world disappeared. It took longer than normal for everything to come back into focus but finally the group landed with a faint popping noise in a small clearing in the middle of a jungle.

Sam laughed in delight and immediately took off running around, trying to look at everything at once.

The trees around them were huge, their dark green foliage nearly blocking out the sun. Mist swirled through the luminescent purple undergrowth and the sound of animals echoed all around them.

“Pietro!” Wanda said, letting go of her brother to smack his arm, “this is not Asgard, this is Wakanda!”

“I aimed for Asgard!” Pietro insisted, his other hand freed as James ran after Sam to get him to stop climbing trees.

“You passed it three realms back,” Steve pointed out, his eyes narrowing, “did you miss the exit?”

Giving the whitelighter an affronted look, Pietro gave a grand wave. “Well why don’t you try it.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve disappeared in a swirl of white light and a moment later reappeared.

“HA!” Pietro shouted triumphantly.

“Someone is funneling realm travel to Wakanda,” Steve said, worry tingeing his voice

“What does that even-“ Wanda started to ask before a loud yelp interrupted her.

James and Sam were quickly walking backwards, hands in the air and dark-skinned warriors advanced on them with glowing purple spears. More warriors appeared from out of the dark jungle and surrounded the little group.

Hands held high the Halliwell’s and their allies glanced at each other after a moment of being held at spear point. Then Pietro shrugged and stepped forward.

Giving the warriors an easy grin, Pietro leaned on one of the spear shafts and gave them a cheerful wave. “Hello! How are you, Pietro Halliwell here, the Charmed One. That is my twin, Wanda, the other Charmed One and our brother James! The other other Charmed One. And of course, our lovely friends Sam the mortal and Steeeeve,” at this Pietro frowned at the wide eyed shaking of Steve’s head before quickly pulling himself together and continuing, “the uh, totally normal other mortal. We mean you no harm, greatest force for good and all that, but we seem to have taken a wrong turn into your truest magnificent realm. Perhaps you could be good enough to point us towards Asgard and we can get out of your way?”

The leader of the warriors, a tall woman with a clean shaven head and red and gold armor, narrowed her eyes. “What business do you have in Asgard.”

“Well,” Pietro said, tilting his head to one side, “we are friends of Loki and-“

The warriors let out a shout, taking a step forward and forcing the group back a step.

“We are not friends of Loki!” Pietro quickly corrected, arms up as the spear he had been leaning on suddenly found its way to his throat, “we do not even know a Loki, who names their kid Loki anyways!”

A growl echoed out of the surrounding jungle and a large dark creature leapt from one of the trees and stalked towards them. It looked a bit like a human, dark colored armor covering most of its form, but was covered in black fur. Its purple eyes were slitted under the simple helm of black leather it wore with a silver band around its forehead. Growling, the figure showed them its long white fangs and stalked forward on all fours, dark tail waving and black ears flat against the helm.

“Werepanther?” Sam whispered, half terrified and half in awe.

“Prince werepanther,” Wanda murmured to him.

“King,” snapped the General, lowering her spear and signaling for her warriors to do the same.

“King?” Wanda and Pietro said together, staring at the werepanther as he straightened and his fur receded.

The ears and tail remained but before them now stood an elegant man with smooth dark skin and handsome features. He clasped his clawed hands behind his back and examined the group with his dark purple eyes.

“T’Challa what is going on?” Wanda asked, pressing a hand to her heart.

T’Challa, king of Wakanda, werepanther protector of the hidden realm, stared down at them, voice and eyes as hard as diamonds. “My father, King T’Chaka, is dead. Murdered by Loki.”

Wanda gasped, tears springing to her eyes as she pressed her hands to her mouth. “Oh T’Challa, I am so sor-“

“What business do you, friends of Loki, have in the magic dimensions,” T’Challa asked, cutting Wanda off as his voice boomed around the small clearing. “What brings the Charmed Ones, fresh from cutting ties with the Elders, a human mortal and a wanted whitelighter, to my kingdom.”

Steve cursed softly under his breath and James moved slightly to stand between the Werepanther and his friend.

“If I may, your majesty.” Sam said, cautiously taking a step forward, then another as the king’s guards did not shish kabob him, “Loki came to us with a problem, we agreed to look into it. And I swear to you, that is all. I wouldn’t put it past him to be into some shady ass shit, but straight up killing a king? That doesn’t seem like his style.”

“Well he did try and kill Odin,” Pietro muttered under his breath.

“Not helping,” Sam hissed, shooting a ‘shut the fuck up, Pietro,’ look over his shoulder.

T’Challa stared at Sam for a long time, slowly mulling over his words. Then he nodded. The warriors around the group shifted, falling into formation and shoving them forward.

Sam stumbled forward then winced as he was pulled to one side by the sharp clawed hand of the king.

“I hope, for your sake, mortal, that you speak the truth. Justice will be served.”

-

The march to the capital was hard but short and soon the group found themselves being dragged apart. Sam found himself shoved into a simple but pleasantly furnished room and the door locked behind him. Steve was led down a set of stairs, a pair of spears at his back.

James tried to resist the hand on his arm, dragging him forward. “Where are you taking him!”

“He has his own crimes to answer for,” the general, Okoye, said from the front of the group, “as will you, soon enough.”

The Halliwells were forced onward, down twisting passageways until they were completely lost. Finally, they came to a door guarded by two stone faced warrior women. Okoye nodded to them and they stepped aside, opening the door for the group.

Inside was a scene of tragedy. It was once a meeting room, with guided chairs thrown to one side and a glass table shattered and on its side. There were tall windows that showed the gleaming purple and blue lights of Wakanda’s capital far below, one of which was shattered and letting the wind swirl the ripped curtains. A sheet of ice covered the ground and remaining windows next to a simple but elegantly looking throne that lay on its side.

T’Challa was already there, still dressed in his armor but with a long linen coat thrown over it. He was kneeling next to a large blood stain on the richly patterned carpet beside the throne, its impression the only space not frozen solid. As his eyes slid to the Charmed Ones they slitted, betraying the storm of emotions that were raging in the new king’s heart.

Standing quickly, T’Challa walked to their sides and waved towards the room. “If you think your Loki innocent, by all means, find me the proof.”

“Why do I get the feeling Loki’s not the one on trial right now?” James hissed out of the corner of his mouth to his siblings, his misgivings growing by the second.

“Let us just find proof and get to Asgard,” Wanda whispered back, boldly taking the first step toward the crime scene.

“If there is proof,” Pietro murmured, touching one of the ruined curtains with a pained look on his face. “Ice is Loki’s trademark.”

“Lots of beings use ice,” Wanda insisted, waving at the destruction, “but Loki is a trickster, he adores the subtle, and this is anything but subtle!”

James said nothing as he kneeled down. Hesitantly he reached out and pressed the fingers of his left hand against the ice. He felt nothing. Swallowing hard, the demon witch slowly stood and turned to look at the hard-eyed king. “Exactly what killed him?” He asked softly, not really wanting to know the answer.

T’Challa waved one hand and a warrior stepped forward with a dark blue box. Standing before James, she tapped the lid and it disappeared.

“Loki didn’t do this,” James said softly, reaching into the box and pulling out the long thin shard of ice, one end covered in dried blood.

“How can you be sure?” T’Challa growled.

“Because,” James said softly, tightening his left hand around the icicle. It did not burn his skin, it didn’t even feel cold. Letting his other half surface, letting the exact same ice flow out from the star on his shoulder and encase his left arm, James turned his glowing blue eyes to the Wakandan king. “I know my kind’s work.”

-

After trying the door, the windows, the small barred air vent and then the door again, Sam gave up trying to get out and instead decided to do something constructive. Pace and worry himself into an early grave. Fortunately, before his hair had a chance to turn gray, the sound of footsteps and shouting echoed down from outside his locked room, growing closer and closer.

Sam ran to the door as it was flung open but found himself with an arm full of angry red-haired witch followed by a second arm full of her silver haired twin before he could rush his captors.

“He did not do it!” Wanda screamed, leaping to her feet and throwing herself towards the door. She ran into it as it shut and slammed her shackled hands against it in frustration.

Pietro didn’t move, his equally bound hands shaking violently as he stared vacantly at the wall.

“What the hell happened!” Sam asked, gently moving Pietro into a chair before trying to grab at Wanda as she continued to pound at the door.

“Let us out! Let us out! He is innocent! You cannot do this!” Wanda continued to scream, tears starting to run down her face.

A cold terror fitted itself around Sam’s heart as he seized Wanda’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “Where is James!?”

“They took him,” Pietro whispered, also starting to cry, “he told them a Winter Soldier demon killed T’Chaka and they blamed him.”

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, letting incredulous information sink in. “That doesn’t make any damn sense! James didn’t have the opportunity or motive to kill some random king he’s never met! T’Challa has to see that!”

“I do not know, I do not know!” Wanda whispered, shaking her head, “mother knew T’Chaka from years ago and we met T’Challa as kids but. He is so different now! Like he does not care who is responsible, like he only cares about revenge!”

“If they hurt a single hair on his head!” Pietro suddenly shouted, standing up and clenching his hands. The shackles around his wrists glowed brightly, absorbing the magic the witch had been trying to use to blink out of them. With a gasp, Pietro sat down again but glared viciously at the door and his enemies beyond it.

Sam stared at his friend for a moment, having never seen Pietro so angry before in his life. Then he swallowed hard and turned to look at Wanda.

Her shackles were also glowing, draining her magic away as she tried to use it to break free, to fight.

“Stop,” Sam said softly then raised his voice, “Stop it both of you! You’re being influenced!”

“I am going to kill them all,” Pietro growled, as if he hadn’t heard Sam then blinked and frowned. “Why did I say that?”

“It’s Hela!” Sam shouted, shaking Wanda be her shoulders and finally getting her attention, “this is all a set up! Someone captured Hela and is using her to start a war between the magical communities! Assassinating a monarch is the perfect linchpin in starting a realm wide war!”

Wanda blinked rapidly and stared in horror at Sam. “And we fell right into it.”

“Not yet!” Sam said, pulling out his shield badge from his wallet and unpinning it from the leather. With his tongue between his teeth, the agent inserted the pin into the lock of Wanda’s cuffs and a moment later they fell off with a click.

“How did you do that?” Wanda asked in shock, massaging her wrists.

“You magic folks are so predictable, always assuming that magic is the only answer.” Sam said with a grin, uncuffing Pietro. “Let’s get the hell out of here, we have a war to stop.”

-

With a pair of power damping handcuffs around his wrists, Steve found himself shoved through a cell door and face to face with an old friend. It was the worst case scenario and exactly what he had been expecting considering how the day had been going.

“Ross,” Steve drawled, letting his body slouch to one side with a tired sigh.

“Steven!” Thaddeus Ross said, sounding delighted to see the blond, as he set a small red book aside on a small table and stood up. “It has been such a long time. How are you?”

Steve blinked and held up his hands pointedly.

Ross gave a condescending laugh. “Sorry about that but we only just found you, can’t have you running off now.”

“I imagine not,” Steve muttered, turning slowly to examine the room. “Did they tell you to do the job or are you just their errand boy today?”

“Do the job? Whatever are you talking about Steven?” Ross said, still giving his fellow whitelighter a sickly-sweet smile.

Stopping his casual perusal of the room, Steve turned and glared at his ex-coworker. “If you are going to kill me, get on with it. I’m not looking for forgiveness and I’m way past asking permission.”

Tapping his finger thoughtfully on the cover of the red book, Ross tilted his head and kept on smiling. “My dear friend, we aren’t going to kill you. You’re too valuable.”

Giving a short laugh, Steve shook his head. “What could I possibly have that you want.”

Walking around the table, Ross rested his hand on Steve’s left shoulder, digging his fingers in ever so slightly and turning the blond’s stomach with his unending smile. “You have the Halliwell’s trust.”

A horrified silence stretched between them before Steve took a step back, spitting out his angry words. “Go to hell.”

“We are ready to welcome you home dear brother,” Ross crooned, opening his arms wide, “all you have to do is enlighten the Charmed Ones to the way the good side thinks!”

“And if you can’t,” Ross continued, turning away from the horrified whitelighter and walking back to the table, “I just so happened to find this fascinating little book that might be of some use. We found it in an old demon’s cache in Brooklyn.”

Lifting the small red book, Ross turned back. “The custom curses of George Barnes.”

The name burned through Steve’s heart and froze his feet to the floor. He wanted to kill Ross, burn the book, watch everything in this damned room turn to ash, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but stare.

“It’s a fascinating little read,” Ross continued, pulling out a pair of reading glasses and flipping through the book until he came to a specific page and read a passage, “‘for the complete control over those of demon blood. My spawn continues to resist my curses, I must find a way to force him to tap into his demonic side and set my trap. Perhaps that mortal brat he follows around like a little pup will be the perfect bait.’”

Giving the blond a sympathetic little frown as he saw the pain filling Steve’s eyes, Ross shut the book and tapped it against the palm of his hand. “Is your little Bucky still causing you pain? It's a pity the Elder’s’ memory erasal spell didn't completely work on you, all that pain could have been washed away.“

Steve’s head bowed, his bangs covering his eyes as he clenched his hands into fists. “You erased my memory?”

“You were hurting!” Ross cried, clasping his hands to his chest, “you would never have been able to do the right thing and banish the demon your Bucky became without our help! Alas, all the spell did was repress your pain and keep you from ever recognizing the demon your lover turned into. Still, you should have been able to banish him without ever realizing who he really was.”

“You're the reason I never found him?” Steve hissed through gritted teeth.

Ross’s smile vanished and he took a step forward, snapping at the blond. “It’s time to make a decision Rogers, return to the fold and bring the Halliwells. It’s for the greater good.”

Steve said nothing, keeping his head bowed against the onslaught of his fellow whitelighter’s words.

Shaking his head, Ross tried a different tactic and pressed a finger to Steve’s chin, forcing him to look up. “If you wont join us for the sake of your new lover, then do it for your old one. Give us James and we will give you Bucky.”

With a crack, the manacles around Steve’s wrists snapped as he twisted them sharply. As the mangled metal clattered to the ground, the blond’s hands shot up and wrapped around Ross’s throat.

“Do not blackmail me and call it the greater good,” Steve spat, walking forward and forcing Ross back. “Do not tell me to brainwash my friend and call it the greater good.”

Up against the far wall, Steve lifted the whitelighter up, screaming out his rage filled words. “Do not use my dead lover’s name and call yourself the greater good!”

Ross writhed against the Captain’s hands, electricity popping and snapping through the air, burning the skin of his neck.

With a crash the door to the cell flew open and Sam burst through. Taking one look at the scene, the human rushed forward, grabbing Steve’s arm and tugging hard. “Steve! Let him go! This isn’t you, it's Hela! You’re being controlled!”

Blinking against his anger, his desire to fight, his longing to kill, Steve slowly opened his hands.

Ross fell to the floor with a thud, gasping and touching the electric burns on the skin of his neck. He opened his mouth and looked up to find Sam’s boot flying towards his face.

“Sorry man, but I really don’t want to hear it,” Sam muttered as Ross slumped sideways, unconscious. Snatching the red book, the SHIELD agent shoved his dazed partner out of the cell.

-

James slowly walked the length of the stark white room, turned and walked back the other way. He hadn’t been expecting a pat on the shoulder and a ‘good job for figuring this murder mystery out’ but having the butt of an enchanted spear slam into his stomach, its burning power knocking him out instantly and then waking up in a magical prison seemed a bit off in his opinion.

He hated the white walls, the white floor and ceiling, the way they glowed too bright and made his headache. He hated the way its enchantments made him powerless. Most of all, he hated how the room had completely blocked his connection to his other half.

It had been barely six months since James had accepted his demon side, learned to trust it and embrace its comforting coolness at the back of his mind. But now that it was blocked, missing, it was impossible to ignore. And James hated it. Hated that it had been taken away from him and he wanted it back.

James stopped pacing, clenching his jaw as anger rippled through him. It was more powerful than any anger he had felt before, even against his own father. But that, that wasn’t right.

Shaking his head, James tried to concentrate, to focus as the cloying anger rushed through him.

Hela.

“Fuck!” James hissed, fear overcoming the anger and washing it away as the demon witch searched madly for a way out of the white room. There was no door, not even a seam where an opening might have been. His panic grew as he slid his hand over the smooth white walls, quickly running out of places to look.

The light in the room grew brighter, casting James’s shadow against the wall in front of him and he quickly turned. The wall behind him had turned translucent, swirls of magic passing across the surface. On the other side was a teenaged girl, her long dark hair done up in looped braids. Dried tear tracks marked her dark cheeks and her purple eyes were slits. Black cats ears lay flat against her head and her black tail trashed angrily as she glared down at the witch in the cell.

“My name is Shuri,” she said slowly, her voice thick with anger and grief, “and I want to know why you killed my father.”

Swallowing hard, James slowly approached and tried to appear non-threatening. “I didn’t kill T’Chaka,” He said softly, kneeling down to look up into the girl’s eyes.

“Liar!” Shuri screamed, her fangs flashing in the bright light of the rooms. “You killed him with your ice powers! You are the demon who murdered him!”

“Shuri,” James murmured, keeping his voice low and soothing, “please listen to me. I am the same kind of demon that killed your father, but I swear, I didn’t do it. This is a setup, the goddess of war has been kidnapped at the same time as your king being killed. They are trying to start a war.”

Shuri blinked, her fangs receding as fresh tears fell from her eyes. Slowly she shook her head. “No,”

“The kind of demon you are looking for is called a Winter Soldier,” James went on, pressing his hands against the magical barrier, “they are trained to be weapons, mindless assassins sold to the highest underworld bidders. But my witch half protects me from the curses that create them. It gives me the power to fight and refuse their orders.”

“You are lying,” Shuri said, taking a step away from him and shaking her head slowly, “you would say anything to get out of this.”

“Look them up!” James cried out, curling his hands into fists. “They are common demons! I am begging you, please! Hydra is rising and the Power of Three must face them!”

A fist slammed into the barrier, shocking James and causing him to fall back.

A tall man with golden eyes and spotted ears and tail stalked into view and glared down at the witch in contempt before turning to look at Shuri. Clucking his tongue, he shook his head, dreadlocks swinging around his face. “What are you doin’ cus? You know you can’t trust outsiders. They will lie to your face while stabbing you in the back.”

Shuri looked conflicted but took another step backwards.

“Run along princess and let the grownups deal with this scum,” the man continued, sliding his hands into his jeans and jerking his head toward James.

“Yes Killmonger” Shuri said softly, emotion falling away from her face as she hurried out of sight.

“You can't-” James started glaring at Killmonger but stopped short as the wereleopard slammed his fist against the wall again.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Killmonger said, grinning cruelly. “We can do whatever the hell we want. You Charmed brats are too late.”

A voice called from somewhere out of sight and the wereleopard turned his head then looked back at James. Leaning close to the wall, Killmonger licked his lips and purred softly so that only the witch could hear. “Hail Hydra.”

“No,” James gasped, scrambling to his feet. “No! Shuri! T’Challa! Someone!”

Killmonger’s laugh echoed around James’s head as he pounded against the wall. “It’s a trap! Please! It’s Hydra! Hydra is here!”

The wall shimmer and turned white, sealing James in again but still he pounded against it. Screaming for someone, anyone to listen to him. Begging to thin air to please, let him out before it’s too late.

-

“Do we have a plan or are we just going to keep busting heads until we find James?” Steve asked, dodged under a spear shaft to throw its owner over his shoulder.

“Technically busting heads is kind of a plan,” Sam responded, using two of his charms to blast the oncoming warriors out of his way.

Wanda and Pietro shrugged in unison and continued to fight. The group made its way through the twisted halls of the Wakandan fortress until finally they came to a locked door.

Glancing back to the wall of spear shafts behind them, Steve turned back to the door and with a growl of frustration. The magic in his blood running high, the super soldier had had enough and put his first through the door. Ripping at the twisted metal, Steve tore the door off its hinges and hurled it at the warriors behind them and rushed out into the cool evening air.

“Where the hell is James!” Sam shouted, shooting bolts of power over his shoulder as he ran alongside his friends. A moment later he cursed again, diving sideways behind a large rock sticking out of the grassy field they were running across as a sleek black ship shimmering with blue light swirled sharply and started blasting at them.

“We’re surrounded,” Steve panted, shaking the blood off his already healing hands, “I’ll draw their fire and you-“

Steve didn’t get a chance to explain the rest of his plan as an explosion over their heads knocked them all to the ground. They had no chance to recover as a moment later the sky filled with lightning, flashing and arcing off the ground around them.

“Apologies for our tardiness,” called a loud booming voice as a tall blond covered in muscles and shimmering armor landed beside the sprawled group, swinging his hammer in a burning arc that caused his red cape to billow in the wind.

A huge yellow ship, covered in dents, rust and mismatched parts, slowly moved to hover over them, humming loudly as it lowered to just above head height.

“Thor,” Wanda gasped, hauling herself to her feet and giving the thunder god a tired smile, “as happy as I am to see you, did you have to bring your fan club?”

Thor grinned as the Guardians of the Realms leapt down from their ship, their excitement at a good old fashioned fight humming through the air.

“Alright team! Let’s do this with as little killing as possible!” Peter, Starlord, Quill shouted, tapping at his enchanted armor. The human hovered slightly above the ground on rocket boots as he set his blasters to stun.

“I do not make promises I can not keep,” Drax growled, the orc flexed and clenched his hands into fists as hard as steel.

“I am Groot?” asked the similarly named Ent as it grew and shrank until it felt that it was the proper size for the upcoming battle.

“Yeah!” The enchanted raccoon that called himself Rocket agreed as he reluctantly switched his machine gun’s setting to ‘boring’. “We can totally loot unconscious bodies!”

Gamora, the green skinned dryad, rolled her eyes and flipped her blades around to hold the dull sides forward. “What’s the rule?”

“Loot after we win,” all her male teammates grumbled unhappily in unison as Groot helpfully repeated “I am Groot!”

“Get our brother back and you can loot all you want,” Pietro panted, gratefully accepting Thor’s hand as he was pulled to his feet.

The Guardians gave the silver haired witch a far too delighted look and eagerly turned back to face the amassing Wakandan forces.

King T’Challa stepped out of the mass dressed in full battle gear. Tapping his chest, the Black Panther dispelled his helmet and glared at the small rebellious group.

Thor stepped forward as well, setting his hammer down. The two leaders met in the middle of the field.

“I do not want war,” Thor said softly, bowing his head slightly to the king.

T’Challa’s face twisted in rage and he hissed back. “You turn your back on my father’s murder, block my every attempt to seek justice for his death and now you bring your attack dogs into my kingdom! Aid in the escape of the people responsible for our king’s death! You chose war long ago!”

“You are being influenced,” Thor begged, holding his hands out to the furious werepanther. “Please! Think! You are blaming the Charmed Ones for murder. Does that really make sense to you?”

A moment of uncertainty passed across T’Challa’s face before vanishing under unbridled rage. Taking a step back, the Wakandan king tapped his check and his face vanished under the Black Panther helm.

Sadness twisted at Thor’s heart, but he did not back down as the werepanther backed away to stand with his army that had begun to chant and beat the ground with their spears. Holding out his hand behind him, the god called mjolnir to him, spinning the hammer.

“This isn’t good,” Sam said softly as he watched Thor send a bolt of lightning into the sky, calling up the Valkyries that blocked out the sky on their winged horses. “Hydra is getting exactly what they want, we are going to destroy each other.”

-

James’s throat ached from his screams, his fists bruised from pounding on the unyielding wall, head aching from the tears of frustration that were spilling from his eyes. Kneeling on the cold floor with his forehead and arms pressed against his prison’s wall, the witch fought against the helplessness and despair rising in his throat.

So wrapped up in his fears, the demon witch nearly face planted as the wall suddenly vanished. Head snapping up, James stared at the young girl standing in front of him again.

Shuri was biting her lip, her pain and anger conflicting with the logic and evidence that had been laid out in front of her.

“It’s your power, your spell. You can find the truth for yourself,” Loki murmured from beside the princess. The trickster was in his battle gear, green and silver armor glinting faintly with his curved horn helm under one arm and a long staff in the other.

Shuri nodded slightly, a purple glow gathering around her hands as she murmured words of power in her own language. Reaching out, she placed her hands against the sides of James’s head.

The world fell away in a blur of color and James found them standing in his memories as they sped past. The past few days, the past few weeks then months flew around them.

Back the princess went, frowning in concentration.

“Please,” James said softly as he watched his time in the future quickly run out. “Please don’t make me watch it.”

Shuri paid no attention to him, slowing down even as George Barnes’s sneer appeared in front of them. She watched, heedless of the weak sobs coming from the man next to her, as the demon and his son shimmered away from the San Francisco manor and back to a street in Brooklyn. The world blurred around them in a swirl of dark magic as time rewound even faster before coming back into focus.

Then she stopped.

James closed his eyes, turning away from the small figure on a lumpy bed.

“I don’t like this,” Shuri said and snapped her fingers. The world flashed and a swirl of darkness appeared around the kneeling figure of a young man with short dark hair and ice creeping down his arm.

The same darkness appeared around James and he sobbed as he saw it, recognizing it instantly. “I’m still under father’s curse,” he whispered, feeling sick to his stomach at being forced to face his greatest fear. That he would never be free, that he would always be a liability.

Finally turning to look at the man whose memories she was walking through, the princess’s frown deepened. “I don’t like that,” she said and waved her hand.

James swayed as the darkness around him streamed away and the world dissolved in dizzying speed. Gasping as he came back to the real world, to kneeling on a cold stone floor, James blinked up at the princess holding George Barnes’s greatest curse in the palm of her hand.

“You did not kill my father,” Shuri said softly, crushing the swirl of darkness in her hand before holding it out to help the witch to his feet. “The only evil you have done was not by your own choice.”

James said nothing, still reeling from being forced into his most painful memories. Unable to believe that this little girl, who had condemned him only an hour ago, had set him free.

“Please,” the princess said softly, tightening her grip on James’s hands as a new fear filled her eyes. “Help me stop my brother from being evil’s tool.”

Loki smiled slightly at the determined nod the demon witch gave the young princess.

An explosion from far above them caused the three to stagger as it rocked through the underground compound.

“What the hell was that,” James gasped, protectively pulling Shuri close to him.

Rolling his eyes and shifting his grip on his spear, Loki called up his powers with a swirl of green magic. “Another shining example of my brother’s diplomatic skills. Our time has run out, Hydra started the war.”

With a whirl of green magic all three appeared on the surface, above the battle between Wakanda and Asgard.

“We have to stop this now!” James gasped in horror, tightening his grip to keep the distraught princess Shuri from rushing head long into battle.

“Splendid idea!” Thor said, landing beside the small group in time to hear the demon witch’s words.

Giving his brother an irritated look, Loki quickly blasted the group of warriors that Thor had led to them with a harmless freezing spell. “Do not tell me the great Hero of Asgard has broken with his time honored tradition and actually come up with a plan.”

Thor grinned at his brother’s back as the Trickster blasted several more Wakandan warriors. “I think we need to pull a pagan,” he said casually, before leaping back into the sky.

“A pagan?” Loki gasped, staggering and screaming after his brother. “A pagan!?”

“Rocket! We’re doing a pagan!” Thor howled, landing on the ground with an explosion of lighting and knocking several Wakandans off their feet.

The raccoon cackled, throwing his gun to Drax. “Take it! We’re doing a pagan!!!”

“NO!” Loki screamed, leaping down into the battlefield and fighting his way towards his brother. “No pagan! Their, their ignoring me!” He gasped, ducking an attack and looking around to complain to someone. “Everyone is ignoring me, don’t do a pagan!”

“What the hell is a pagan!?” James shouted, running with Shuri close behind him as they tried to find a safe way off the roof that Loki had left them on.

“It’s a god thing!” Thor shouted back, sliding up to Sam and grinning broadly as he dug around in the pack still on the agent’s back.

“No! Pagan!” Loki shouted again, stressing each word as he smacked another soldier with the butt of his spear.

“Get the virgin!” Rocket yelled as he used Groot as a springboard to get back onto the guardian’s ship that had been on autopilot with its shields up to give them air cover.

“Don’t you dare use my ship for a pagan!” Peter yelled as he finally heard what the others were yelling about.

Thor ignored him as he finally found what he was looking for in Sam’s backpack and leapt away leaving the SHIELD agent extremely confused. Landing beside James and Shuri, the god flashed them a huge smile. “Going to need a hand, dear,” he said, chivalrously bowing and holding out his hand to James.

James hesitated then nodded as Pietro and Wanda blinked next to him. “Take care of her,” he shouted, grabbing Thor’s hand.

The twins gave him simultaneous disbelieving noises as the brother they had just found again turned to leave.

James gave them an apologetic look before grunting slightly as he was tugged into Thor’s arms and lifted off the ground. Once again struck by how unfun flying was, he didn’t know why Sam loved it so much, James wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck and hung on for dear life as the god flew them to the Guardians’ ship that had circled around and started to rise away from the battle.

“I didn’t know you were pagan,” James gasped as Thor landed safely inside the ship and the bay doors closed behind them.

“We are, but we're Norse.” The god said casually as he quickly took out the chalk he had gotten from Sam and started drawing on the floor of the ship.

“Then why did you call it a pagan?” The demon witch gasped, grabbing onto a piece of metal jutting out from the ship’s wall as Rocket turned the ship sharply and started screaming a variety of curse words.

“Do not do a pagan!” Peter’s voice could be heard, screaming over the intercom in the ship’s cockpit.

“They thought we were pagan,” Thor explained unhelpfully as he finished the circle and grabbed James’s left hand. “Apologies,” he said as he pulled out a dagger and stabbed into the demon witch’s palm.

James gasped in pain and staggered as Thor pulled him forward and pressed hard at the cut to cause several drops of blood to fall on the center of the chalk circle.

“How we doing Thor?!” Rocket yelled from the cockpit, making several loud clattering noises as alarms started going off.

“We’re good!” Thor yelled back, slamming his hand on the button to open the ship's bay door.

James’s blood bubbled and hissed on the chalk lines, slowly moving out and turning the entire circle red.

Rocket cackled, grabbing another gun nearly as large as he was as he ran past the two and hurled himself out of the ship.

“What are we doing!?” James yelled as Thor muttered a spell under his breath that shimmered through the ship. He let out another yell as the god then turned and ran full tilt into him, knocking them both out of the ship.

The autopilot took the ship higher as the blood of a virgin witch reached the edges of the summoning circle and began to glow.

Falling through the air, James stared open mouthed as the huge spaceship exploded far above them into an enormous swirling black and green vortex.

“Crap. They did a pagan,” Peter muttered, waving at the remains of his ship as they were sucked into the vortex.

“They did a pagan,” Loki muttered, shaking his head wearily.

“Cool,” Steve said as Sam landed beside him with the cackling raccoon that he had caught in midair.

“Is that how it worked the first time?” James asked as he and Thor landed beside their friends.

“Well,” Thor said, grinning up at the slowly clearing vortex, “it didn’t really work the first time.”

The smoke in the vortex cleared, showing an image of a dark stone fortress surrounded by fire through the green tint of the portal. It was difficult to distinguish the figures that moved on the other side of the green portal but the huge banner painted with a skull and six writhing tentacles was crystal clear.

Explosions and huge shimmering blades flashed on the other side of the portal when suddenly it warped and a single figure broke through. Long dark hair streaming behind her as she crashed to the ground, Hela slowly stood and let her dark rimmed eyes slide over the battlefield and open mouthed Wakandan warriors. Turning, she glared back up at the portal and the mass of Hydra soldiers writhing and pressing against its surface, pushing it out and warping the green surface.

Raising her hand, the Goddess and queen of Asgard snapped her fingers and closed the portal, Hydra’s fortress vanishing from sight. Turning towards her little brothers, Hela crossed her arms and shook her head. “I can’t believe you did a pagan.”

Thor made a disbelieving and indigent noise while Loki just gave a loud pointed laugh.

“That was Hydra” General Okoye said softly, still staring wide eyed at the sky.

“Hydra has returned,” T’Challa mumbled, removing his helmet and shaking his head in disbelief.

Hela hummed softly, swirling one finger and calling off the magic that had been stolen from her and used against the grieving Wakandans.

“What, what have I done,” T’Challa gasped as the fog of rage left him staring in horror around him.

“No!” Shouted a voice, Killmonger leaping down and stalking through the warriors of Wakanda waking from the spell. “They killed your king, your old man! They deserve to die! Take your revenge!” He shouted desperately, waving his claws at the Charmed Ones.

With his siblings holding tight to his arm, James held a small potion bottle in his hand with three fingers and pointed at the wereleopard, speaking in a cold clear voice. “Magic forces far and wide, enchant this so those can't hide. Allow this witch to use therein, so we can reveal the evil within.” as the spell settled around the small vial of water, James threw it at the Wakandan prince’s feet.

Killmonger screamed as the vial shattered, sending up a cloud of blue smoke that turned his golden eyes to red fire as his richly decorated sleeve turned to ash, revealing the Hydra brand.

The warriors of Wakanda leapt forward, grabbing the traitor and forcing him to his knees.

T’Challa stared at Killmonger, shaking his head in disbelief, “you? My cousin? My own kin? You are Hydra?”

Seeing his perfect plan falling to pieces, Killmonger let his anger and contempt spill from his lips. “I ain’t your kin! Your old man killed my father! His own brother! And left me to rot in the filth of humanity! Hydra gave me power! Gave me my chance for revenge! And it would have worked! I would have killed you all and left me with all the power of this realm! Go ahead and kill me, cut off one head and two will rise! Hydra will rise!”

Killmonger fell silent as Steve Roger’s fist slammed into him and beat the consciousness from his body.

“Sorry,” Steve said, letting a huge breath out and giving T’Challa an apologetic look, “Old habit”

-

James let out a tired breath, raising his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. Gathering his fading strength, the witch focused his powers on the dried mint leaves and ginger and poured healing thoughts into the hot water that he poured over the tea. Swaying as he imbued the last of his power into the tea and handed it to the last of the injured.

“You need to rest,” Steve murmured from his elbow, brow furrowed but keeping his hand shoved into his pockets, refusing to reach out and touch his friend.

“Others need rest more,” James said softly, taking a drink of plain hot water and turning away to find someone else to help.

A dark-skinned hand caught the witch’s arm and gently pushed him down to sit on a rock on the edge of the battlefield. “I owe you more than I dare put into words for my foolish action,” King T’Challa said softly, regret seemingly permanently etched into his tired eyes, “Now I owe you double that for the aid you have given my people, please do not triple that debt by risking yourself for us.”

Huffing, James rolled his eyes but did not rise. “Don’t be an idiot,” he grumbled, gaging the king correctly as he got a small smile for his words, “this is what I do.”

Tilting his head slightly, T’Challa considered the Charmed One. “This is your destiny?”

Snorting, James accepted a bowl of fruit from Shuri and smiled as the princess hopped up beside him, nuzzled his arm and started to purr. “Destiny is just a fancy excuse for people to try and justify their fears of the future.”

“Says the man who can see the future,” T’Challa said, openly staring in awe at James.

Steve watched James smile at the king who had tried to kill him just a few hours ago. Watched the princess who had condemned him to death fall asleep across his lap. The witch he was falling for continued to astound the whitelighter with the kindness he carried in his heart and gave so freely to those who did not deserve it.

“You’re overthinking it” Sam said, walking up behind his partner.

Steve’s frown deepened as the storm in his heart raged higher. “It wasn’t Hela,” he admitted, hating how bitter the words tasted in his mouth, “I wanted to kill Ross, still do.”

“Because of this?” Sam asked, holding up the red book he had shoved in his pocket and nearly forgotten about.

A look of pain and fury passed across Steve’s face but he quickly grabbed the book and shoved it into his jacket. “Later,” he muttered as Sam gave him a look that clearly said the human had no intention of letting Steve off without a damn good explanation.

“I do not know about you,” Wanda said loudly as she walked up on the SHIELD agents, Wakandan royalty and her brother, “but I am ready for a long bath and bed.”

“This isn’t over,” Steve growled, shifting restlessly as the others nodded in agreement with the redhead. “Hydra nearly destroyed us all, they are rising and won’t stop until all the realms are under their control.”

“Liberty, justice, and tight pants!” Loki said mockingly, turning himself into Steve and strutting around in the tight leather suit the captain had worn in his army days.

Gritting his teeth at the soft laughter, Steve opened his mouth to argue but the words caught in his throat as James’s hand caught at his own.

“We know the war has only just begun, but we're here, together. And together nothing can stop us.” James murmured, his soft voice carrying through the battlefield and inciting a cheer from all around.

“Wakanda is with you!” T’Challa called, his people calling out their war cries in support of their king.

“Asgard is with you,” Hela murmured, smacking Loki to make him turn back into himself and resting her elbow on top of Thor’s head. A horde of Valkyries behind her and a small rag tag group of realm rouges cheered.

“If you honestly expect me to fight a war without my ship!-” Peter loudly complained but stumbled sideways as Thor gave him a shove.

“Calm little lord, I took a copy before setting off the circle, we will 3D print you a new ship back at Asgard.” Thor said, smirking at Peter’s sputtering and the doe eyes the rest of the guardians were giving him.

Steve said nothing but pulled away from James and walked off before orbing away.

James stared after him, hurt bubbling up as the cheers of his allies echoed around him.

-

Sam gave Steve nearly two hours to sulk as he made sure the Halliwells were safe at home and promising to go to bed soon. Then the agent retrieved his car and made his way across town to the whitelighter’s apartment.

The door was open and Sam let himself in, frowning at the bottle of Irish whiskey on the kitchen counter before shrugging and pouring himself three fingers. He deserved it.

“You know, I’m getting real tired of asking what the hell is wrong with you,” Sam said, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “The Halliwells forgave you, James is opening up to you and once again you are this close to fucking it all up.”

Steve slowly hauled himself out of his chair and turned to give Sam a thousand-yard stare.

“Because of this?” Sam repeated, picking up the red book that was sitting next to the whisky bottle. “What is it?”

“Ross said he was alive.” Steve said instead, shaking his head slightly.

“Who?” Sam said, keeping the sharpness he was feeling from leaking into his tone.

“The love I lost,” Steve said, turning and walking into his bedroom.

Taking the red book with him, Sam followed as he saw Steve slowly sit down on the bed and pull a picture frame out of the bedside table drawer.

“I was just starting to put him behind me, I thought that James was my second chance. But if Bucky is still alive.” Steve mumbled, caressing the glass under his fingers.

“Bucky?” Sam asked, his breath catching in his throat.

Steve hummed and after a moment held out the photo. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Sam stared down at the photo of the two young boys with their arms around each other in the lap of a smiling woman. The two young boys he had seen many, many times before, staring up at him from the pages of a sketchbook. “What is this?” Sam asked, holding up the red book with his eyes still glued to the photo.

“Bucky’s dad was a demon, he made curses to control other demons and that was his journal. Ross read it to me, George used his curses to take Bucky away from me when he used his demon powers to save my life and turn me into this.” Steve explained, rubbing at his face.

“You need to tell James,” Sam interrupted, wide eyes finally raising to look at Steve.

Frowning, the whitelighter tilted his head. “Why?-“

“You need to tell him now,” Sam snapped, shoving the book under one arm and dragging Steve to his feet.

Bewildered, Steve set his glass down and orbed them to the Halliwell manor.

“What?” Wanda gasped, stumbling tiredly as Steve and Sam orbed into the entry hall. “What now?”

“Where’s James,” Sam asked, his sharp tone shocking the redhead and bringing her fully awake.

“In the attic,” she said softly, quickly following the two men as Sam dragged Steve up the stairs.

“James!” Sam shouted as he burst into the attic.

James and Pietro looked up from the Book of Shadows, frowning.

Sam opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat.

A swirl of fire appeared behind the two witches, exploding outward to form a red portal.

James half turned as the shouts of warning echoed through the attic. Red skinned hands reached through the portal, digging into his arm. James lashed out, shoving Pietro and the Book of Shadows out of reach just as he was pulled through the portal right before it snapped shut.

Two witches, a whitelighter and a human stared in horror at the space where their friend, brother and loved one had stood a moment before.

“Hydra made their move,” Sam whispered, the photograph slipping from his fingers and shattering on the ground. “The final battle starts now.”


	15. The Power of Family

James gasped as he woke, wheezing as he tried to suck air through the slits of a metal mask clamped around the bottom half of his face. He fought against the burning shackles around his wrists made of pure fire that held him against a red stone wall. He fought not to lose consciousness again even as he waited for another blow to his head from the blurred demonic figures moving around him.

“Welcome, Bucky Barnes,” Hissed a quiet voice as a horrifying face wavered into focus in front of James, “Welcome home.”

The demon smiled, his white teeth startling against the red of his skull like face and black leather jacket and pants. “Welcome to your true destiny, welcome to Hydra!”

-

Sam couldn’t focus on Thor’s pep talk, couldn’t focus on the armor and charms he was handed, couldn’t focus on preparing for war.

‘Steve is Stevie, James is Bucky’ repeated over and over in his head as his unfocused eyes skimmed across the faces of their friends and his fingers fumbled with the straps of his wings.

“Emerald for your thoughts,” Loki murmured in Sam’s ear, causing him to jump as the trickster’s nimble fingers tightened the human’s armor straps.

Sam snorted and then rolled his eyes as Loki handed him an emerald the size of an egg. But the truth was burning through him, demanding to get out.

“So, you are telling me that the whitelighter from the 40s named Steve Rogers is the same Steve Rogers that dear James fell in love with while he was living in the 40s. Shocking, really. Why did no one figure that out?” Loki asked sarcastically, shaking his head in despair at everyone’s obliviousness.

“Because we were all too busy trying to help them move on from their past,” Sam hissed, his eyes bulging and looking like he wanted to rip his hair out, but it was too short. “And I can’t tell him but I have to tell him but I can’t!”

“You can’t tell him,” Loki agreed, side eying the tall blond strapping on his old army leathers and round shield. “Don’t open that wound until we know we can get James back.”

“But what if we can’t?” Sam asked, hating the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Then may destiny have mercy on anyone standing in Steven’s way,” Loki murmured, summoning up a long dagger and attaching it to Sam’s hip, “because he won’t.”

-

“Red Skull,” James hissed, rage and hatred at seeing his father’s ‘old friend’ and Nazi, burning him even more then the fire at his wrists.

“Such passion does not fit one such as you,” purred the demon, twisting James’s head to the left where a large mirror had been set up, “but look how well suited you are to wear our mark.

James felt sick, pushing away how he had been changed into black leather outfit with straps across his chest and a Hydra insignia on his left shoulder and instead focused on taking in his surroundings. The red stone room was richly furnished with classic wood chairs, a large desk and several bookshelves. Besides the full length mirror there was a huge round window set to one side, letting in the red light that faintly illuminated this part of the underworld.

“You belong with us,” Red Skull hissed into James’s ear. “It’s in your blood.”

Wrenching away from the Hydra general, James growled at him. “I am not my father!”

Laughing in what he thought was a fond way, Red Skull walked away and traced the edge of the mirror. The surface rippled and then reflected an image of George Barnes, smiling cruelly. “Ahh George, now there was a demon. He was so close to finishing his work and giving us the power to control all lesser demons to be soldiers for our great army. Revenge was his downfall. He thought too small, focused on one woman. Hydra thinks bigger, the end of good vs evil, a world of peace for all.”

“A world where all bow to you,” James snapped, “that’s not peace!”

“The end of conflict, the end of pain,” Red Skull continued as if he hadn’t heard, “you know a great deal of pain don’t you.”

With another touch to the mirror George vanished and was replaced with an image of a young blond boy, a smile splitting his thin face.

James wrenched his eyes away from his lost love, all the pain and conflict he had though was finally gone, coming roaring back.

“You were supposed to be the panicle of your father’s research, but you refused to establish the needed connection to your demon powers.” Red skull murmured, sounding almost sympathetic, “until your little Stevie fell ill. Finally, you had a reason to reach for the magic, and curse the boy you loved.”

“How? How did you know that?” James whispered, head reeling as he watched the last time he saw Stevie alive play across the mirror’s surface.

“Because this is the night everything changed,” Red skull hissed, anger leaking into his voice for a moment before smoothing his expression again. “Did you ever wonder what happened next? What your darling Stevie did after you disappeared.”

James knew he should shake his head, should fight against this monster and his twisted words. But the longing in his heart was too much and it reached up and nodded his head.

Smiling, knowing he had the demon witch hooked, Red skull snapped his fingers and let the past play across the mirror. “Little Stevie Rogers tried to follow his beloved Bucky but couldn’t, for the change was not yet complete.”

James saw Stevie rising from his bed to fall on the floor, one hand grabbing at the red star glowing on his shoulder. Watched as the small boy writhed on the floor, his body growing and changing. James watched little Stevie, his childhood love, turn into Steve. The tall blond man of his future.

Pleased with the stunned look on his prisoner’s face, Red skull continued. “He took your words literally and enlisted, following you ‘to war’.”

The images moved faster, showing Steve taking up his shield, taking up the name Captain, taking his Howling Commandos into battle. Battle against Hydra. James watched Steve over and over and over again defeating the demons, monsters and humans that Hydra sent against him. Watched as Steve fought Red Skull himself and emerged victorious as the general escaped with only his continued existence.

“You couldn’t beat him,” James whispered, watching the battles rage on and on, the red star he had left behind glowing brightly in the dim light of the past. “My spell wouldn’t let you.”

“You made the ultimate soldier,” Red Skull agreed, watching the mirror with a bitter expression, only smiling when he saw Steve board the super bomber.

Tears spilled over James’s lashes, running down across the metal mask, as he watched the premonition he had seen. Watched his Stevie die.

The mirror moved as the blond it depicted shoved the plane’s yoke forward, sending it into a nosedive. It showed the tears in the blond’s dark blue eyes as he mouthed his last words, “I’m sorry, it’s the end of the line.”

Bucky sobbed, falling forward against his bonds and screaming out his pain.

Tutting softly, Red Skull walked forward and lifted the demon witch’s chin. “We spent the entire war trying to find a way to stop that unstoppable man, trying to figure out what he really was. Imagine our surprise when we found his creator was none other than the half demon child of our most beloved ally. You truly are your father’s son, a true spell smith.”

Releasing the witch, Red Skull walked over to the huge window and looked out, hands clasped behind his back. “And now you will use your gift, your perfect spell, to create me the perfect army. An army of super soldier demons!”

Bucky laughed, cracked and broken but growing stronger with each breath dragged through his metal muzzle. “Never!” He hissed, glaring with all the passion he had in his heart.

Red Skull simply smiled, slowly turning to look at his captive. “Oh, young one, you will. One way or another.” Walking back to the mirror, he leaned against it and waved his arm across the surface. “You will or you will watch everyone you love die.”

The mirror showed the present now, showed the two armies gathered beneath the window. Showed a pair of enraged twins and their furious fathers. Showed SHIELD agents, human and magic alike, standing with steely determination with an orange cat on their eyepatched leader. Showed Asgardians standing side by side Wakandans and merfolk floating on wafts of water magic. Showed whitelighters surrounded by swirls of orbs, ready alongside their charges, no matter the consequences. Showed the next generation of good magic, running headlong into a fight that wasn’t theirs yet but refusing to stand on the side lines. Showed a hard-eyed blond bearded man with a red white and blue shield shining in the dark alongside the red star on his shoulder.

“You will join us or watch your Stevie die.”

-

Steve stood on a small rocky outcropping, fearlessly making himself a target as he observed the army of Hydra. It was a mix of nearly every type of demon, their red eyes and brands glowing brightly.

“You won’t be able to orb in,” Hela said, summoning and dispelling different massive swords as she tried to find the one she wanted. “Their shielding spells were almost too powerful for even me to break through, we have to fight our way through.”

Pietro shifted restlessly, flexing the silver brass knuckles on his hands. A hand fell onto his shoulder and instantly calmed him.

“We’ll get him back,” Clint murmured, the shorter blond was decked out in his purple and black vigilante gear with his enchanted bow in one hand.

“We are too cool to lose, right?” Pietro said softly, giving his boyfriend a watery smile as he nodded fiercely.

It was going to take a lot more than coolness to win this fight, but Steve didn’t voice his pessimism. Leaping down from the rock and ignoring the odd looks he had been getting all day from his allies, the captain led the other leaders to the front line.

Leading his shield, Stevie Rogers took a slow breath. “For James,” he whispered, pushing thoughts of Bucky away one last time.

War cries followed the whitelighter’s soft words, echoing off the rocks of the underworld and causing the demons of Hydra to take a step back with their ferocity.

“For James!” Wanda and Pietro screamed, leading the charge.

-

“No!” Bucky shouted, lunging towards the mirror but only succeeding in hurting his wrists even more as he watched his family crash into the mass of Hydra demons waiting to kill them all.

“Join us!” Red Skull cackled, seizing Bucky’s face, nails digging into his skin to force him to watch.

The allies started strong, whitelighters orbing through the field and quickly healing any to fall.

Wanda fought back to back with Vision, his human illusion dispelled and the gem in his forehead glowing brightly. They were a whirlwind of red and gold destruction. Clint and Pietro appeared and disappeared through the army, firing arrows and retreating them out of the disintegrated corpses of enemies. Occasionally they would separate, leaving the witch to freeze large sections of demons to be torn through by the young witches of Magic School, their headmasters and a werepanther princess, who definitely was supposed to have stayed home, before linking their arms again and blinking away.

Tony wasn’t easily recognizable in his full suit of red and gold armor, flying around and blasting the masses of demons alongside huge hulking true form of Venom, strengthened by the love the symbiote and its One had for each other. Sam occasionally flew beside him but always returned to circle and dive around the savage force that was the werepanther king, T’Challa. The royals of Asgard were the second most impressive force, blasting, slicing and whirling their way through the troops while laughing and counting their kills as if it were all a great game.

But Steve, Steve was the most impressive. His shield flew with perfect precision and accuracy, toppling a dozen demons with a single throw before returning to the captain’s hand to be slammed against another demon that had gotten too close. Claws, fire balls, and lightning seemed to slide past Steve, nothing slowing him down, nothing stopping him.

But there was no end. Score after score of demons continued to pour out of the Hydra fortress and the allies began to tire. The unyielding mass began to push them back, regaining the ground they had lost in the initial charge.

“See?” Red skull shouted, “they are weak! Too weak to deserve one such as you. Join us! Give us your magic! This is your destiny!”

James fought to look away, shaking his head against the demon’s grip. His family was going to die and there was nothing he could do. For it wasn’t the magic that protected Stevie. James knew that now. It was the love that he had woven through his words, the love he had poured into a single wish. For Stevie to be well.

And now his wish was going to get everyone he loved killed.

-

Steve was panting as he threw up his shield to block an overhead swing of a brute demon welding an athame. He frowned as he looked up at the demon’s ugly face. “Didn’t I just behead you?” He asked, getting nothing but a grin in answer before putting his fist through the monster’s chest and disintegrating him again.

“Sam! I need eyes!” Steve yelled, staggering as another fireball exploding against his shield.

Sam dipped his wings in acknowledgement and he and Tony flew forward, rolling around each other to protect each other’s back. Banking sharply, Sam hissed as he spotted a huge portal just inside the fortress. The pair whirled around and flew away, trying to avoid the myriad of projectile spells being thrown at them.

“They have-“ Sam yelled but never finished his sentence as a plasma ball slammed into his left wing and sent him crashing to the stone ground below.

“Fall back! whitelighters to me!” T’Challa howled, leaping forward and protecting Sam’s unmoving form with his own body until Okoye and her warriors came to his aid. Lifting the SHIELD agent into his arms, the werepanther carried him out of harm’s way and to a whitelighter in the back.

“They have a wasteland portal,” Tony gasped, finishing Sam’s sentence, “inside the damn wards, we have to find some way to get through and destroy it or these fuckers won’t stay dead.”

“Only demons can get through the shield!” Hela yelled, summoning up dozens of spears and hurling them at the demons, cutting down the front two ranks and giving her allies a moment breather while she slumped forward from the exertion.

“I’m a demon!” Peter shouted excitedly, shooting webs from his wrists to the cave ceiling far above and swinging over to join the impromptu war meeting.

“No, no!” Tony shouted, waving his hands frantically, “your powers aren’t strong enough, you would have to get right up next to it to turn it off and the wasteland’s pull could be too strong. You could…-“

“You could die,” T’Challa said, finishing as Tony trailed off.

“I know,” Peter said, his smile never wavering, “but if I don’t try then we all die. This is what witches do, risk themselves for their family. I want to be a witch.”

Instantly everyone started arguing, shouting out their points and trying to overrule the others.

“Peter, Peter!” Steve shouted, trying to be heard over the sounds of physical and vocal battle, “you said I have demon blood right?”

Peter nodded as the others quieted enough for him to hear.

“How much,” Steve asked, grabbing the teen’s shoulder as he hesitated, “how much Peter?”

“Enough,” Peter murmured softly.

Nodding and taking a steadying breath, Steve turned back towards the fortress. “Get me close,” he said, tightening his grip on his shield and starting to run.

Erik and Hela ran beside the Captain, hurling their powers forward as fast as they could to clear the path before falling back, panting. Thor and Tony were next, flying above Steve and throwing lightning and repulsed blasts in front of him until hurled spells brought them both down. Steve kept running, far from his allies now, shoving his way through the clawing hands and dark magic ripping at him. He could see the portal, its murky yellow glow flickering as demons continued to flow from it. He dug his feet into the stone ground, trying to force his way through even as his speed slowed to a stop. Even as a heavy blow to the back of his head sent him crashing to the ground, Steve crawled on.

-

“NO!” Bucky screamed as Steve fell. Magic swirled around him, unbridled, uncontrolled. Ice exploded out from his left arm, spikes ripping through the leather sleeve and freezing the fire shackle around his wrist. A shimmering layer of frost spread out across the witch’s skin, freezing the shackle on his other wrist.

Red Skull staggered back, grabbing at the side of his face where the ice had cut a deep gash.

With a yell Bucky ripped out of the frozen fire and threw himself at the demon. Crashing into him, the witch and demon fell back into the mirror, breaking it.

“This is the destiny I choose,” Bucky whispered into Red Skull’s ear, shoving the shard of ice in his hand farther down into the demon’s chest to pin him against the shattered remains of the mirror.

Shoving himself away from the demon he had frozen just between life and death, Bucky turned and ran at the window.

-

Steve was fighting for breath beneath the unending attacks from the demons above him when he heard the crash. Looking up he saw the glittering fragments of glass surrounding a dark figure falling through the air.

Bucky crashed to the ground, one knee bent, with an explosion of ice, huge spikes shooting up out of the ground around him. Shoving himself up, the demon witch turned his glowing icy eyes to the demons staggering backwards towards the portal to the wasteland. Lips curling in rage, Bucky called up all his powers, forcing his anger and hate into the magic gathering between his hands. With a yell he threw the magic which exploded, taking the portal, fortress and surrounding demons out in spears of ice.

The weight on Steve’s back vanished as the demons around him turned and fled. He pushed himself on tired arms and stared up at the ice in front of him. Stared at the figure in front of him. At the red star on his shoulder, the ice that covered it, the glowing blue eyes and turned to him.

“Bucky?” Steve whispered, warmth flowing through him as the undeniable proof standing in front of him ripped through the Elder’s feeble spells and gave the whitelighter the truth he had been searching for.

Bucky leapt down from the ice and walked forward. Stopping in front of the whitelighter, the demon witch held out his ice covered hand.

Steve reached out, too shocked to do anything else. Too shocked by seeing the man he had fallen for turn out to be the man he had never stopped loving and longing for since the day he had disappeared. His fingers brushed the cool ice when a crash echoed around the cavern and shockwaves rippled through the floor.

Bucky tensed and turned to stare up at the fortress and the monstrous creature rising up behind it.

A tentacled creature with a skill like head and fire burning in its eye sockets. It screamed a terrible sound that echoed out of the mouths of all its puppet followers.

Bucky turned to look back at Steve with a wild grin, the kind of grin he gave the blond during back-alley fist fights. “Charmed time,” he said, throwing out his arm and catching Steve’s other hand and hauling him to his feet.

Steve grinned back, the kind of grin that started those back-alley fist fights and shifted his grip on his shield.

The pair turned to face the near zombie like Hydra demons, their brains turned to mush by their patron, and ran.

Side by side they fought, Bucky summoning ice daggers to slash and stab between sending bolts of lightning ripping through the demon mass. Steve guarding their backs, his shield sending out rings as it took the brunt of magical and physical attacks before lashing out and crushing skulls with his superhuman strength.

The pair staggered as a huge red tentacle crashed to the ground beside them, heedlessly crushing a dozen hydra soldiers beneath it.

“James!” Wanda screamed, appearing as the tentacle jerked away in response to a huge sword slicing into it and covering Hela in black blood.

She and Pietro ran up with their allies close behind to surround the Charmed Ones in a protective circle.

Bucky opened his arms, catching his siblings in a quick hug. Pulling away he kept hold of their hands and turned to stare up at the Hydra.

“We can do this,” he said softly, letting his ice fade away as he called up his witch powers and feeling them mix with his siblings. “Focus on our family, focus on our love. That is the Hydra’s weakness.”

Wanda and Pietro nodded, pushing aside their exhaustion and wounds and focusing everything they had, putting their whole hearts into this spell.

The Charmed Ones spoke together, their soft voices echoing around the room, growing louder and louder in time with their rising powers. “The Power of Three we now decree! The Power of Three will set you free! The Power of Three will destroy thee!”

The Hydra screamed, writhing as the good magic, magic filled with love and longing and the feelings of family and home, washed over it, burning it. It hurled itself forward, distorting the fortress in its attempts to stop the Charmed Ones. Or to take them with it.

Tightening their hold on each other, Pietro, Wanda and Bucky repeated their spell, reaching out and calling on the people around them and the love they held. “The Power of Three we now decree! The Power of Three will set you free! The Power of Three will destroy thee!”

The screams were agonizing, the demons still alive clutching at their ears and screaming along with their patron. But the witches were safe, surrounded by family and friends and protected by each other. With one last howl, The Hydra exploded into fire, raining down and destroying its followers once and for all.

In the silence that followed, Bucky let out a long sigh. Cheers erupted a moment later, filling the underworld caves for the first time ever with the sounds of happiness.

Bucky gave a tired smile, his eyes searching the crowd and marking off each family member and friend as he spotted them. He felt a little guilt at seeing Sam with bandages wrapped around his leg but smiled as he got a huge wink from his friend as T’Challa settled down next to Sam and began fussing while his long black tail lashed back and forth happily.

He was blushing under the proud eyes of Erik and Charles when Bucky heard Steve’s voice.

Thick with emotion and uncertainty, the blond could only say one thing. “Bucky?”

Every horrible little detail of the life he had forced his love through came crashing down on Bucky, ripping his heart open. He couldn’t turn, couldn’t bear to look at the man he had loved twice over but did not deserve. Unable to face Steve, Bucky shimmered away, leaving only tears to splash against the cavern floor.

-

Bucky reappeared with a sob. Gasping he tore at the leather jacket he had been dressed in, throwing it to the ground and stumbling away in just a black tank top.

He hadn’t had a place in mind when he ran and staggered as he ran into a glass display case. Looking up Bucky frowned at the sepia toned banners stretching across the huge room’s cancerous ceiling.

“Smith-son-Ian?” Bucky read slowly, scrubbing at the tears in his eyes and trying to read the banners sideways. “Why am I in DC?” He asked the dark room.

Turning his head, Bucky saw why he was in DC with a jump. An artist interpretation of Steve’s face stared out at him from the wall next to an exhibit hall. _“Captain America, the nation’s hero”_ the signs proclaimed and with a painful kind of fascination, Bucky approached them.

Summoning a small ball of lighting to light the room, Bucky walked through history’s recollection of his lover’s life. Red Skull had shown him the worst, the pain and death that Steve had lived through. This hall showed the best, bringing every shiny, happy moment in the super soldier’s life to the forefront.

It was so much worse than the demon’s torture.

Tears poured down Bucky’s face, blurring the words he tried to read, making the smiling faces in black and white photos run together. He fell to his knees in front of a huge mural of the dearly departed Captain, smiling with his arms around his friends.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice murmured following the soft chime of orbs and faint light spreading through the exhibit.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sobbed, clutching at his arms and curling away from the whitelighter, the whitelighter he had killed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Bucky,” Steve said, voice coming clearer as he hurried forward and reached out for the witch.

Flinching away, Bucky finally raised his eyes and looked at the blond he loved. “I did this to you, I sent you to war, I killed you, I made you live through everyone’s deaths. I cursed you!”

“No,” Steve gasped, lowering his voice to a soft murmur. “You gave me this gift, gave me my life to live how I saw fit, gave me the power to make a difference like I always dreamed of.”

Reaching out to cup Bucky’s damp cheek, Steve blinked away his own tears. “You gave me the power to find you again. And I would fight through 70 more years if it meant I could hold you one last time.”

Bucky shook his head but couldn’t deny it, couldn’t fight the love right in front of his eyes. Sobbing, he hurled himself forward and clutched at Steve, burying his face into the blond’s wide chest and cried out all the pain he had carried in his heart.

Steve held his old and new love tight until his sobs fell silent and his breaths evened out. Gently easing his arm under Bucky’s knees, he orbed them both home. Making sure Pietro saw them as he pushed Bucky’s bedroom door shut with his foot, Steve used his orbs to push the covers aside and eased the witch down.

Bucky gave a soft whine in his sleep as Steve pulled away, his fingers curling into the straps of the captain’s battered armor.

The love in the blond’s heart threatened to overflow and he murmured soft nothings as he unhooked Bucky’s hands. As quick as he could, Steve changed them both out of their leather armor and into soft sweaters and cotton lounge pants.

Easing himself down on the bed next to the still sleeping witch, Steve gently wiped his thumbs across the dried tear tracks on Bucky’s face. He wanted to stay awake, to memorize the planes of his love’s face, the soft pout of his pink lips, but emotional and physical exhaustion tugged at his consciousness and the blond found himself drifting as Bucky unconsciously cuddled closer and closer until they were completely wrapped up in each other.

Distantly Steve heard the door open, vaguely saw a pair of heads poke inside and let out a soft sigh as a heavy but comforting weight settled over them with a swirl of red magic and a white warm object settled in the one remaining gap between he and Bucky before letting out a soft purring noise.

The men lost in time, finally found once again, sleep deeply that night, comforted by the scent of each other that their heads, but not their hearts, had forgotten.

-

James was slow to wake, feeling the sticky grogginess that came every time Wanda managed to trick him into sleeping with Pietro’s weighted blanket. Reluctant to face the waking world with the dryness sticking his mouth together and the growing pang in his head, James turned and buried his face into the plush and wonderful smelling pillow under his head.

He knew he should get up, knew the growing headache behind his eyes would only get worse unless he dealt with it, but it would take far too much energy to untangle his legs from the thick muscle thighs wrapped around him and stop the long fingers from running through his long and tangled brown locks. Far, far too much energy to face the chilly morning air that always filled the manor until Wanda turned the heating on when she made it downstairs first thing in the morning.

The hand in his hair stilled and a faint sound of bells echoed around James’s head a moment before the pain in his head vanished.

“You still get migraines,” murmured a deep voice as the pillow under James’s face vibrated pleasantly.

Blinking, Bucky slowly lifted his head out of Steve’s pecs and stared blearily at the blond. “What’s a migraine?” He asked dumbly, still trying to piece the situation together.

“Those ‘brain shank’ headaches,” Steve murmured with a fond smile.

“Oh, them bitches,” Bucky grumbled, letting himself fall back down against the heavily muscled body beneath him. “Yeah, sometimes. Wanda got me some meds but they only work half the time.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, Steve hand’s going back to carding through Bucky’s hair.

“Is that really what you want to talk about?” Bucky asked, tensing as the last pieces of the day before fitted back together.

“No,” Steve said after a moment of hesitation. Slowly he sat up, taking Bucky with him and waking Alpine in the process, “its not.”

Bucky didn’t try to remove himself from Steve’s lap as the blond rested his back against the headboard but couldn’t bring himself to raise his bloodshot eyes and focused on rubbing Alpine’s belly

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes Halliwell.” Steve said, voice full of the conviction that shone just as brightly in his eyes as Bucky looked up into them.

“Even after everything I did?” The witch whispered, tilting his head and causing his hair to fall across his lips.

“You saved me,” Steve insisted, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s and smiling.

“I left you,” Bucky whispered guiltily, somehow finding the courage to keep Steve’s gaze.

“And yet here we are,” the blond murmured, “a demon witch Charmed One and a cursed whitelighter.” Bringing his hands up to frame Bucky’s face, Steve grew serious. “No more second guessing, no more regretting the past. I love you and I’m with you, till the end of the line.”

Bucky smiled through happy tears at hearing that promise. The promise he had whispered every dark night when all he could hear was the weak wheezing of Steve’s breath. The promise Steve had shouted every time Bucky had tried to push him away, to protect him from the rage of his father. The promise they had whispered against each other’s lips as they dreamed of a bright future.

“Till the end of the line,” Bucky murmured, eyes falling shut and he leaned forward and kissed his love.

It was soft, like the kiss they had shared under a red shrouded copula. It was reassuring, like the kisses they had shared during the dark uncertainty of 1940s Brooklyn in a world at war. And it was something more, something new and different, evolving as they grew and settled into the men they were now.

It was heated, lips parting quickly and tongues eagerly diving. It was possessive, as they rolled, Bucky finding his back against the bed and completely covered by the massive blond. It was curious, as fingers tugged and slid under soft fabrics to find warm skin.

It was interrupted by a loud bang on the door, followed by giggles, shouts and the patter of running feet.

“We should probably,” Steve murmured, lips pressing soft kisses against the column of Bucky’s throat.

“Go down,” Bucky concluded, contrarily digging his fingers up the back of Steve’s shirt and pulling him closer still.

Slowly, Steve sat back, pulling Bucky with him and smiling at the pout on the plump pink lips he longed to devour. And honestly what was stopping him? Tugging Bucky in when they were both standing, Steve kissed him again and again until the demon witch was flushed and gasping.

“We should go down,” Bucky said, shaking his head at the incurable blond, delighted at recognizing the mischievous glint in his lover’s eye. He pushed Steve towards the door then paused and pulled open a drawer of his vanity and lifted out a framed drawing.

“You found the sketch book!” Steve gasped in delight, hugging Bucky tightly as he saw his old drawing. “I’ll have to do a new one, I don’t look like that anymore.”

Holding out his hand the whitelighter summoned a swirl of orbs and plucked the framed strip of photos of the two of them with Sarah on Coney Island, fitted with a brand new pane of glass.

“We’ll have to do a new set,” Bucky murmured, smiling with a fond sadness at seeing the closest thing he had had to a mother growing up smiling up at him with her two darling boys, boys who had no idea the pain and happiness and love their futures held for them, “we don’t look like that anymore.”

Quietly slipping out into the hall, holding tight to each other’s hands and their picture frames, the pair walked slowly to the top of the stairs, shuffling to keep from stepping on Alpine weaving between their feet. Loud laughter and the smell of Pietro’s Legendary Breakfast Explosion wafted up to them, but they paused. Very carefully they hung the drawing and photo booth strip next to a photo of the Halliwell siblings in front of the manor with their arms around each other.

Slowly Bucky and Steve descended the stairs, eyes caressing the photos that showed their family, friends, loved ones. Some waiting for them on the ground floor, some waiting for them in the life after theirs. But their love could be still seen in their smiles, could still be felt in the warmth of their home.

As they stepped down to the ground floor both men were swarmed by young witches running for the front door. Peter called a greeting but was quickly dragged onward by Shuri and Morgan with Morgan’s adopted brother Hurley and Ned following behind. They flung the front doors open and rushed out into a world covered in the thick coat of the first snowfall of the year.

Smiling with a fond shake of their heads, Bucky and Steve walked to the doors. Taking one each they gazed out at the quiet world, a peace for this moment at least.

Gently squeezing Bucky’s hand, Steve gave the love of his afterlife a smile.

Swirling his thumb against the back of the hand of the love he had lost and found again, Bucky smiled back.

Hand in hand, they slowly closed the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Its been a while ride but we really enjoyed making this and we hope you enjoyed it too!!! AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!


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